A Writer Required
by Lauralithia2
Summary: The Goblin King showed up today, and said he requires a writer. Why he felt the need to ask me, I've no idea. This is a story about Jareth's life, as told to me by Jareth, and my experience working with him. This is a Jareth and me.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I actually started writing this a while back as a kicks and giggles. Then when I was reading another fic, I had an idea and wanted to share it. I altered the original version of this to better fit the idea, so it's lots better. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Clearly, I do not own Labyrinth.

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A Writer Required

Chapter One

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I tapped the keys of my laptop with distracted fingers, staring thoughtfully at the screen. "If Sarah takes this path," I thought outloud, "then that would give her more opportunity to develop as a character-" A sudden cold chill breezed down my neck and I shivered.

Startled, I cast my eyes up from the laptop to the small fireplace keeping the tiny house I lived in warm. The fire continued to burn, the logs crackling a peacefully muted tune. The fire was fine. I frowned and glanced around, but the window by the front door was closed tight against the frigid, early morning winter air. A december snowstorm blew outside, hiding everything beyond the window from sight by a thick curtain of snow. I looked back to the fire and huddled down into my favorite fuzzy fleece blanket. Even sitting on my small couch across from the fire, it was difficult to keep warm.

I noted that the fire was getting low and contemplated getting out of the blanket to replenish the fire's food. With a shiver, I eventually relented and slid my laptop off of my lap to the couch beside me, and got up to place another log on the fire. I'd just put a new log amongst the flames, which were just now wrapping around the log with tentative tendrils, when the window rattled.

The wind howled with such a vicious noise that I jumped in fright. It sounded like an enormous beast, instead of a storm, was raging outside. The noise only grew, and the top of the chimney whistled, sounding oddly like the screech of an owl; and with a bang, the front door was blown violently open. The flames in the fireplace were flung backwards and down low as though cowering, and snow and wind flooded in.

Yelping and jumping to my feet, I tossed the blanket over my laptop to protect it from the cold elements, and sprinted to the ajar entrance. Taking hold of the edge of the door and handle, I shoved it closed with a heave of one tank topped shoulder. The door slid into place, and I turned the lock until it could go no further.

The howling died down as soon as I shut the door, and I prayed the roof would survive such a gale. With my measly income, a roof leak would be the death of my budget, and the end of any meals in the future, for a time. Making sure the door was properly closed and locked, I turned around to reoccupy the couch.

I froze. There, lounging in one of my grandfather's old armchairs, sat Jareth, King of the Goblins. His white-blonde hair was wild, and he wore a faintly sparkling black poets shirt with a glossy black leather jacket over it. His crossed legs were covered in thick black leggings and knee high, heeled midnight black boots. One gloved hand supported his chin on the armrest, while the other idly tapped a silent rhythm against his supported knee. His mismatched eyes, blue and brown respectively, bore into mine with a steady scrutiny.

After having taken in his appearance, I planned to say something-but no words would form. In all honesty, I was too stunned to form a coherent sentence. So instead I stood there; looking very much like an unintelligent lump. He didn't seem to have my same problem, however, for an instant later one eyebrow crawled high on his face, and he lifted his head, only to tilt it to one side. "Hello." His voice made me take a sharp breath in.

"Uh-Hello." I returned, releasing that same breath. That seemed to free me from my previous involuntary silence, and I blinked several times as though to chase away the shock. "How-How are you here?" I stammered, and my cheeks flushed red in embarrassment at the stutter. Jareth smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. Was he mad about something? Mad at me? If he was, that didn't bode well. I shifted on my feet again awkwardly, and he replied to my inquiry.

"Magic, of course." He responded simply.

I frowned at him. "But you're not real!"

His lips twisted. "Oh, I'm afraid I very much am." He emphasized the last word with cool assurance.

We stared at each other, and at last I finally asked. "Why are you here?" He studied me with a discerning gaze, his eyes passing over my scantily clad pajama'd figure and making me blush while his index finger moved to tap his thin bottom lip thoughtfully.

"I have a proposition for you." He said, lifting his head from his hand. I stiffened, aghast, and my cheeks went pink. He couldn't mean-! I thought, though a large part of me didn't believe it. It was unlikely-but the idea was certainly still shocking. He chuckled at my expression and I glared back in irritation-though I was considerably relieved. He was just toying with me. "A business proposition, of course." Jareth added belatedly.

"Of course." I repeated meaningfully, sure to put emphasis on the importance of the clarification. He smirked crookedly, revealing one sharply pointed canine. He'd caught what I meant, and I gained a small amount of courage in seeing he wasn't too upset. Walking slowly around to sit down on the couch, my gaze stayed fixed on his person. He watched me right back, his eyes flicking down to my hands when I reached down and lifted the blanket off my computer to lay the fabric around my shoulders before I sat down. The fire crackled, peaceful again, and I felt a little better with its warmth. Returning my full attention to Jareth, I spoke. "Assuming that you are, in fact, real: What kind of business proposition?"

Jareth stood with languid grace from the chair and I stiffened, keeping a sharp eye on him. Straightening his jacket, he strode toward me. My hands tightened around the blanket and I wondered if he might turn violent. But he walked past me instead, sparing me a fleeting glance before coming to my large bookshelf next to the fireplace. There sat the whole of my book collection-a miniature library for a fantasy lover. Books like 'The Chronicles of Narnia', 'The Prydain Chronicles', 'Lord of the Rings', the 'Howl's Moving Castle' series, and the tiny book 'The Great Good Thing'. Those few books didn't even begin to touch the whole collection. The book 'Labyrinth' lay amongst them, a book which held at the end Jim Henson's own handwriting and Brian Froud's designs for the characters and landscapes and notes. It was the shared written brainstorming of two creative geniuses. Beside it a much larger book, 'The Goblins of Labyrinth' lay on its side, too tall to stand up as it should. A great assortment of the different kinds of goblins were inside that book, lending insight into an otherwise magical, imaginary world. My eyes studied Jareth's back. Well, imaginary until this morning's visitor appeared. Now I wasn't quite so sure.

This thought in mind, my eyes flew to the other books, wondering what other worlds were more than just stories. My eyes widened at the idea, but before my imagination could really begin working on that fantastical idea, or of Narnia or Prydain, Jareth responded. "You've been writing about me." He said it distractedly-almost offhanded.

I grew wary when he found and picked up my copy of 'Labyrinth'. He flipped slowly through it, discovering the images and notes at the back made by Jim Henson and Brian Froud, and his eyebrows rose. I swallowed in anxiety when his lip curled. It was difficult to say if he was angry or just annoyed. Deciding to steer clear of the topic of that book, I replied.

"Oh?" I wondered about which story he meant, and a meaningful look over his shoulder at me told me the one he was thinking about. My cheeks gained a much darker shade of pink and my eyes flew to the laptop keyboard resting on the couch beside me, in an effort to avoid his gaze. 'Oh crap!' I thought in horror. 'He means 'Goblins'!' 'Goblins'-the book I wrote about the two of us meeting. Falling in love. Having children.

My face grew redder and my heart seemed to want to beat itself out of my chest. I cleared my throat with difficulty. "Oh…That one." I murmured, and Jareth turned around with the book still in hand.

"Yes," He snapped, closing the book with a similarly sharp sound. "That one."

I spoke in a rush, my face growing darker in its reddish hue, my eyes still fixed in mortification on the 'alt' key on my keyboard. "I'm sorry! If I'd known you were real, I wouldn't have dared to write such a thing-" I stopped abruptly and flinched away when he took a step toward the couch, toward me. Jareth paused there, then carefully turned and replaced the book on the bookshelf. I slowly exhaled in silent relief.

He faced me again, folding his arms. "You paint me differently than others do." I lifted my head to look at him quizzically.

"How do you mean?"

Jareth returned the look with impatience. "Most write my character as sardonic, seductive, or sadistic-often times the three together." He stepped closer to the fire, standing across from me now. The light played off of his leather jacket, momentarily distracting me until he went on. "But you don't. You paint me differently." Jareth tilted his head to one side a fraction. "Why?"

I thought on his words. It was true; I didn't write him quite the same as others. Everyone had their own version, really. In my version he was kind, protective, confident, could be seductive or sardonic, but only occasionally. He was rarely sadistic, unless issuing punishment to some type of villain.

These thoughts in mind, I at last explained myself. "It's how I see you." I said quietly, shrugging my shoulders, I unconsciously took on a more confident tone, my eyes fully meeting his. "I think you mean well. When it comes to a Runner, you pretend to be-or are compelled to be-the villain." Jareth returned the look and I continued, folding my legs onto the couch, one knee raised beneath the blanket. "I think you do it because you're trying to teach the Runner a lesson. So they'll realize how much they love the ones they've wished away. So that they'll appreciate the one they've wished away..." I trailed off as an idea occurred to me.

Jareth's lips were pressed together thin but he didn't answer, and this only confirmed my idea. "Everyone beats the Labyrinth, don't they, Jareth?" The crackling of the fire prevailed in filling up the silence between us. The light glowing off his leather jacket and boots almost mesmerizing in their gentle undulating brilliance.

Jareth uncrossed his arms, stepping back and resting one arm on the mantle, leaning against the side of the fireplace. The scrutinizing look in his eyes returned, but there was something else, too. Curiosity? Interest, maybe? I was going mostly by the fire's glow and the dim blue blizzard's light from the window, so I couldn't be sure. Both threw shadows over his face, emphasizing the dramatic planes and ridges of it.

"You're observant. But you haven't written any of this. Haven't told it to the world-to my fans." He sneered at the last word as though it were distasteful.

I frowned at him. "I could. But I think they know too, in their own ways. They know there's good in you." I poked a finger at him from over my blanket covered knee. "I think you know it, too."

Jareth sneered, but the look of interest in his eyes grew and was joined by a sudden sardonic humor. "Well, then. I'm that transparant, am I?" The way his lips curled showed he was somewhat displeased with that notion, and I shook my head negatively in way of reassurance.

"No. But I've been writing you for a long time-I just know you a bit better, I guess." I said, offering a shrug. "That, and Sarah's Run had you set up as the villain. She needed an antagonist, you portrayed that antagonist, and now because of the story, others see you as the antagonist." A breeze fluttering into the room through the chimney and past the fire sent a chill over me. With a shiver, I bundled the blanket around me tighter with a wrinkled brow, sniffled, and continued. "I think that's why people have differing views of you. Some think you're that way even when not fulfilling the runner's wishes and fears. Some think you're only the way you are because of a wisher's specific needs to grow as a person."

Jareth shifted from one foot to the other. "And which are you?" He asked.

I smiled a little. "The second one." Jareth's eyebrows raised marginally but he didn't seem particularly surprised.

I went on. "You probably look different 'off duty' than you do now, don't you?"

The king turned pensive, gesturing vaguely with his hand. "My appearance depends on what the runner expects, but is integrated with my own true features-" Jareth stopped short and my eyes refocused with interest on him at this new information. He scowled, his expression shrewd as he studied me. "However, these are topics best discussed after we agree on our business proposition."

My stomach sank. I'd forgotten all about that. Biting my bottom lip in apprehension, I lowered my feet back to the floor, and shifted the blanket accordingly. "So... What's the job?" I questioned. Jareth folded his arms, studying me.

"I require a writer."

My eyebrows rose. "A writer? What for?"

Jareth leaned away from the fireplace and began pacing pensively between it and myself. I watched him, intrigued. "I require a writer who can write my story. My true story."

I couldn't help the skepticism in my voice, nor the way the same emotion wrinkled my brow. "..And you chose me? Why? There are plenty of other, better, writers who-"

"Because you believe. Not just in me, but in many things." Jareth peered with firm determination at me.

This statement really made my eyebrows gain height. Was he-? Another look at his serious expression was enough of an answer.

I turned my eyes to my laptop screen thoughtfully. What would be the harm in this? I mean-besides the fact that this is probably just a dream-was there any real danger if it was real? Jareth's reflection on my laptop screen brought be back to the present as it showed him stepping closer.

He folded his arms. "Well? Will you accept?"

I studied him on the screen. If he were real, would there be repercussions to his being in my world? I had no idea what the rules were-or if there even WERE rules. I looked at Jareth thoughtfully. If there were, he'd be aware of them, and if he were really, truly, there; then it must be alright-right…?

Jareth stopped between me and the hearth, fingers on one hand tapping out a stacatto rhythm on his leatherclad arm. Finally, I made my decision. Looking him square in the eyes, I spoke firmly.

"No."

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A/N: Hahaha couldn't resist! 😂 *ahem* Probably not the answer you were expecting, huh? Anyway, thanks for reading and please let me know what you think! 😊


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Chapter two. Not much to say, except that I hope you will read and review! :)

Disclaimer: I'm pretty sure that I don't own Labyrinth.

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A Writer Required

Chapter Two

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 _"What?"_

I could hear the incredulity in his voice, and I closed my laptop. "I said No." I repeated, and there was a scowl on his face when I deigned to actually look at him.

"I heard you. What I do not understand is _why_."

I turned myself fully toward him now, my own features serious. "What are the rules for a fae coming to the mortal world? Are you breaking any laws by doing it? I'm a little concerned about the possible repercussions for that."

Jareth's expression showed surprise, then eased as amusement took over, and he laughed. I frowned at him. The laugh could be a good sign, but he could also have been making fun of me.

"Well?" I questioned.

Jareth waved a hand and settled down into the armchair, crossing his legs and smiling. "Besides the fact that I am a king and can do many things regular fae cannot-no, I am not breaking any laws." He gestured at my bookshelf as though by way of explanation. "Your Shakespeare had an encounter with Oberon, and aside from a few tales to tell, he remained unscathed from any 'repercussions' as you put it. In fact, I believe William did quite well for himself." My face gained a pinker hue at his nonchalant tone.

William Shakespeare had really met Oberon? The Faerie King Oberon? I took a moment to process this. A moment turned into a minute as I thought about Shakespeare's stories. Jareth seemed to think that was enough time to consider his words, for he cleared his throat. "So I will ask you again, _'dearest'_." He added the endearment at the end, frosting it with light sarcasm. "Will you, or will you not assist me in this task?"

I had to admit I was interested. Getting a real faerie's life story? What writer wouldn't jump at the chance for such an opportunity? Clearly Shakespeare had, and that had worked to his benefit a great deal more than he likely anticipated. My eyes flit over Jareth's face, and I studied him with shrewd eyes. Well, if he was even real to begin with. Still, it'd be an interesting story to write.

At last I raised my shoulders, almost in a noncommittal shrug. "Well…" Taking a breath, I nodded. "...I guess we can give it a shot." I raised a hand when he opened his mouth, his expression smug at getting what he wanted. "But we need ground rules. You can visit a few times a week, and only between ten am and noon. I have work in the afternoon until the late evening, and I'll be too tired to deal with you after that." Jareth nodded slowly, contemplating my conditions.

"Very well." He leaned against one arm of the chair, propping his chin on his fist. "Anything else?"

"You must announce yourself before you arrive. I don't want you bursting in while I have visitors-give me at least five minutes. It needs to be inconspicuous." Jareth thought on this, and I went on. "We'll have to figure out some method for it. Something no one but myself will notice or recognize." Suddenly Jareth's eyes lit up, and he smirked, a secretive gleam in his eyes I certainly didn't like. My stomach sank.

"I have something in mind. It will take me a few days to prepare it." He said.

"What is it?" I asked warily.

Jareth's smile grew, if possible, bigger than before. "I will bring it with me when next I come."

My stomach sank further.

"...Great."

Momentarily determined to ignore how unsettled I was by his words-I knew I'd think them over later-I looked round for my phone. It was plugged into my laptop, and lay on the couch. Picking it up, I unlocked it and opened my calendar. "So today is Monday… What if we did Monday, Wednesday, and Friday and start this Wednesday?Will that work?"

Jareth inclined his head in acceptance, as though he didn't really care. "It will. I shall return wednesday with the item to be used for our communication."

"Great. Sounds good." I said. Dropping my phone back down next to my laptop, I heaved a quiet sigh and rubbed my tired face. This was by far the weirdest situation I'd ever found myself in. Though, to be honest, its title wasn't hard won. I'd had very few truly weird experiences. At least, nothing significantly weird enough that I could remember.

The arm chair creaking as Jareth stood up, brought my attention to him, and I dropped my hand from my face enough to watch him. "I shall leave you now." He straightened his coat as he spoke. "If I am to have the object ready by our next meeting, I will need adequate time." I stood, too, seeing that an exit was soon in coming. I wrapped my blanket over my shoulders and held it closed, already missing the warmth of the couch.

"Ok. I'll see you later, then." I said, walking toward the door. Poking one arm out of my protective blanket, I swiftly unlocked the door. Taking hold of the handle, I turned to face Jareth, expectant. He quirked an amused eyebrow, and strolled at a leisurely pace until he reached the door.

"Indeed. Farewell for now." He agreed, smirking at me. Bracing myself against the cold, I turned the handle and stepped backward, the door following me. There was a 'whoosh!' as snow and wind tore through the gap, and Jareth leaned forward. He blurred as though moving incredibly fast, and in an instant he was out the door, the snow and wind halting and reversing their path to follow with him. The wind pulled the door shut as he disappeared, and I gasped in fright when the door was ripped from my grasp. It slammed shut, the lock twirling into place-and all was still.

I stared at the door until I heard the screech of an owl, and hurried to the window. I was just in time to see a barn owl flying out of sight over the house across the way, the storm swallowing him whole. Once he was truly gone, I took stock of the room, checking for a small snowdrift or two that would have come in with the door opening. Aside from several items looking ruffled, nothing was amiss, or otherwise disturbed.

The fire cackled on, oddly merry-seeming, and my laptop screensaver had long since come up with pictures of the rose garden in Oregon. I was about to return to the fire-warmed couch when a loud knock at the door sounded, making me jump and whirl around. Was it Jareth? What more could he have to say?

Shaking my head in bemusement, I unlocked the door and opened it a crack to see who it was. Before me stood a tall, dark figure.

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A/N: Uh oh… Who's this? O_O" Sorry for how short it is! The next chapter is nearly finished. Read and review and I'll post it sooner!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Chapter three.

Disclaimer: I only own my own characters and the idea for this story.

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A Writer Required

Chapter Three

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As soon as I saw who it was, I opened the door fully to usher him in. "Andrew!" I exclaimed, taking in my boyfriend's ruffled appearance. He wore a snow-sprinkled, heavy black leather coat, and thick dark blue jeans, tucked into black snow boots. One half of his body was more especially covered with snow. Caked on, really. His scarf was pulled high to protect his neck, nose, and mouth.

"Why'd you come over? And-" I looked him over once more. "What _happened?"_ I questioned, indicating his snow covered half in its attempt at an impersonation of an abominable snowman.

Andrew shuddered behind the scarf and stomped his feet once, and his muffled voice grumbled. "I was worried about you what with how bad this storm is!" He jerked an ungloved hand over his shoulder. "On my way over, I fell in the snow out front." He moved further into the living room and I pushed the door closed behind him.

I closed and locked the door, and Andrew stripped off his coat. His curly, luscious short milk chocolate hair was snow sprinkled, but maintained its curl and volume. Snow on the full lashes that framed his hazel eyes began to melt, and he blinked rapidly to clear them. His features were sharp and very handsome-and I couldn't help marveling, not for the first time-how on Earth I managed to meet and date this man. We'd met at the local library, and he'd assumed I worked there, asking for help in finding a book. Amused, I helped him find it, then told him I didn't actually work there. He'd laughed and asked me out, and now, here we were.

I was brought back to the present as Andrew hung his coat up, huffing from trudging through the deep snow. "This weather is nuts!" He breathed deeply through his full red lips, uninhibited once he removed his scarf and put it with his coat. Briefly he ruffled his hair, scattering snowflakes, and straightened his black dress shirt, the collar of it slightly wet from snow that'd managed to get past his scarf and coat.

"I'm sorry," I offered with an empathetic smile. There was a patch of ice-laden sidewalk outside my house that I'd grown to know well during each winter. With a lot of falling. If I was lucky-as Andrew this time apparently was-I might land in the grassy front yard, now buried under a three foot deep snowbank.

"It's alright." Andrew smiled, his eyes sparkling. He reached out to the blanket, beneath where I was holding onto it with my hands, and tugged me gently closer. "I feel much better, now."

His smile was infectious, and I smiled back, my heartbeat speeding up and my heart warming as he bent down and pressed his lips to mine. My fingers loosened their grip, and I stretched up on my tiptoes to wrap my arms around his neck, wrapping the blanket around the both of us.

He was still cold from being outside, and my thin clothing was useless in defending me from the sudden temperature drop. I shivered, and Andrew growled low in his throat when he felt it-which sent an entirely different kind of shiver coursing through me.

In sensing my reaction, Andrew snaked his arms around my waist, and pulled me closer, intensifying the kiss. With my arms and blanket around him, and Andrew's warm arms wrapped around me, I was quickly growing warmer.

Andrew slowed in the kiss, and his lips unexpectedly grinned against mine in mischief. Before I could do more than wonder at this abrupt change, his hands moved. They slipped down and then up; right under the back of my tank top. Firmly he placed his icy hands directly onto my back, his thumbs digging into and tickling my sides.

"AHH! Andrew!" I squirmed and squeaked in alarm at the cold tickles. Drawing my arms back to my chest with a shiver and an involuntary giggle, I tried to push his arms away. Andrew chuckled quite unrepentantly, holding fast.

"I'd say I'm sorry, but your cute expression makes it hard for me to be sincere about it." Andrew's grin widened, and I tried to fight off a smile by instead putting on a scowl. Even with my best efforts, my lips still managed to smile. Andrew bent down to kiss me again, dipping down briefly to my neck to lay a kiss there, before moving his hands down to rest on my hips.

"Andrew-" I said in warning, my heart racing as I abruptly turned wary. We'd never gone to this point or beyond this, physically in our relationship. I'd made it clear early on that I wanted to wait until we were married to go any further. Andrew wasn't terribly happy about it, but he never pressed me.

At my tone he straightened and reluctantly conceded, "Alright, I'm sorry." releasing me so I could step out of his arms.

My heart slowed as we parted, and I waved my hand at the kitchen doorway. "I forgive you-but only if you go take your coat and boots off in the bathroom, before the snow on them melts and makes a lake in my carpet." Andrew chuckled at my teasing tone and complied, gathering his coat and scarf, and started toward the kitchen with them thrown over his arm. Sneaking a glance my way, he moved quick as a whip and reached over to tickle my side with his icy fingers. I squeaked and jumped aside, not entirely able to avoid him. He laughed, and I swatted his arm as he passed by. "Stinker! Go on, or no hot chocolate for you!" I said, smiling.

That got him moving.

My snow man rushed across to the kitchen and into the bathroom faster than you could say "Frosty". Shaking my head at his silliness, a smile on my lips, I scooped up the stray clumps of snow and grass that'd come off his boots. Following the trail he'd made to the kitchen, I dumped the grassy snow into the garbage can, then filled the kettle and put it on the stove.

With the kettle warming up, I went to my room to get dressed. I heard the water turn on in the bathroom, and realized Andrew must be trying to warm up his hands. While thinking about this, I thought about his job with worry. Wouldn't they be upset if he didn't show up? In all honesty I wasn't entirely sure what it was that Andrew did for a living. The way he talked about it, it sounded like he was a secretary. I knew he worked for the CEO of an important company, but I couldn't for the life of me remember what the company was called. But it was big. _Really_ big.

He'd been asked to travel all over; both overseas and in our own country. He still occasionally went on trips, but lately he had remained in town. 'Actually,' I thought. 'Now I think about it… Andrew really hasn't traveled all that much since we met.' There were a few times in the beginning, but the more we dated, the less interested he seemed in going abroad or leaving for any long period of time. Was it because of me? I had wondered that before, and I wondered about it again now. My heart warmed at the thought, but at the same time I was worried. He might be missing out on work opportunities he could have had otherwise. I reached for my brush from the vanity top, and my hand slowed in picking it up. He needed to do his best at work, and if I was a distraction, then maybe we needed to talk.

The water in the bathroom switched off, stirring me from my thoughts. Quickly I brushed out my long golden hair and put it up in a twisted messy bun. Needing to be able to use my hands to make the cocoa, I had abandoned the blanket to the bed so I could get dressed. I put on a warm silvery blue sweater and jeans, and slipped on a thick pair of socks and slippers. I returned just as the kettle began to whistle, and Andrew had since returned to the kitchen, the same as before, sans his boots. Preceding me by retrieving the necessary hot chocolate ingredients, Andrew lastly retrieved the mugs.

A few minutes later found us each with a mug of hot cocoa, with a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream, and sprinkled with crushed candy canes. I had moved my laptop to the floor beside the couch, so we could snuggle up in blankets before the fire. Once the hot chocolate was gone, we laid on the couch quietly talking and laughing. Andrew was on his back, while I lay on my stomach, the left side of my body flush against his. I rested my head on his chest in contentment and breathed in his scent. Spices and musk and something like black licorice, along with a few scents I couldn't identify; mixed with my jasmine and strawberry scent. It created a peaceful harmony that blanketed the room.

I was dozing when Andrew shifted, his arm under me reaching toward the floor. Blinking sleepily, I turned my head upward to see his face, and he froze. "Ah-did I wake you?" He asked, and his lips curved in a sheepish, apologetic smile. His body eased a bit from its suddenly tensed state as I stretched, closing my eyes briefly and wrapping my arm around his waist with a sigh. "It's ok, I probably shouldn't sleep." Opening my eyes again, I yawned and pushed myself up with my arms.

Andrew nodded at my laptop where it peeked at us from around the couch. "Your laptop's out today. Have you been working on a project lately?" I followed his gaze to the computer and felt my stomach flip. It was closed now, in sleep mode, but seeing it reminded me of my visitor of earlier today.

Jareth, and our peculiar agreement.

I stole a quick breath. "Yeah. Just a new project. I haven't started it, though." I then clammed up on the subject.

But Andrew's eyebrows went up in interest. "Really? Why not?" He reached out to pick up the laptop. "You usually write all kinds of ideas in the beginning, don't you? Maybe I can help-"

"No!" I blurted, cutting him off before he could touch it. Our eyes met and there was something in his gaze that startled me. They were dark and hard. The peaceful feeling that had settled upon the room, fled like a blanket being ripped off of a bed, and I shivered with the cold of it. I blinked, and the look in his eyes was gone, replaced by hurt. Had I imagined it?

"Oh." He murmured, bringing me out of my thoughts.

My stomach twisted guiltily at the hurt on his face and he avoided my gaze. I blanched, reaching out to caress his cheek soothingly. My voice soft, I clarified. "I would love your help, Andrew. It's just that I'm not yet ready." I went on as he slowly faced me again. "I want to get a rough outline written out and be sure I'm happy with it before I share it with you." Hoping it would help, I snuggled closer to him with an exaggerated pout and gently kissed his lips. "Besides, I don't really want to think about work right now."

Andrew looked at me a moment longer, then smiled lightly, warmly. There was disappointment in his eyes, but it turned to resignation-he would wait until I was ready. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me back. "Alright. But remember that I'm here should you need me." Andrew reminded me seriously, and he reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. I rested my hand on top of his in relief. "Thank you for understanding." Andrew's smile softened, and he pulled me closer. "Of course."

Andrew left not long after we spoke about my 'project'. His phone ringing with a call from his boss was what called him away. I went and grabbed his coat while he explained where he was to his boss. "Yeah, I just stopped by my girlfriend's place. I'm gathering my things now." He listened a moment as he tied his shoes and glanced up at me as I brought him his coat and scarf. "Yeah." He paused again. "Not long. I'll be there soon and we can go over it in more depth." He received a short response, and coming to his feet, he replied as he slipped on his coat. "Ok. I'll see you soon." He hung up and put the device in his pocket. While Andrew zipped his coat shut, I scooped up his scarf.

"Can you come to my parents for Saturday's dinner this weekend? Or do you have to work?" I questioned, and Andrew tugged on the bottom of his leather coat.

"Yes, I think I can come this time. I'll have to check with my boss for approval; but I'll let you know soon." I nodded at his words.

"Be safe out there, OK?" I said, my brow lined with concern. "I don't like you driving out in this weather."

"I'll be alright, I promise." He assured me, kissing my forehead to ease away the lines. My frown lightened, and I reached up to tie his scarf for him. I made it a simple loop, and stretched its width to cover more of his neck. Tugging on the end of it, I pulled him down so I could kiss him firmly on the mouth. He made a sound of surprise before he reached for me, but I broke the kiss and tucked his scarf into his coat.

Andrew huffed in annoyance at me and I patted his chest with an impish grin. "There. You're officially ready for work, Mr. Andrew."

I stepped back and Andrew gave a teasing, yet elegant bow. "Why thank you, Ms. Amelia." I walked him to the door. "I'll call you later so we can actually _plan_ our next date." He said, and I agreed with a giggle. "Sounds good. Talk to you later!" Opening the door, I waved as he hurried out into the winter weather.

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A/N: Well, that's it for chapter three. Well then, what do you guys think of Andrew, eh? S:) If you've any questions you want answers to, review or comment to let me know. Thanks as always for reading! ^_^


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I've been getting quite a lot of good feedback, so thank you for that! Remember that the fastest way to get me to update is to leave a review or a comment. Honestly, I hate even to ask you guys that, because I know you just want to read-but I also recognize that I often need feedback, and it's really helpful for me for you guys to review or comment. Your feedback really really helps me, because I read what you think and get more confident and excited about the story, which inspires me so I can write more and faster! So please know your words make a difference, and I consider your advice and thoughts seriously. Thank you! ^_^

Disclaimer: I only own my characters and the story idea.

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A Writer Required

Chapter Four

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After Andrew left, I got ready for work and the rest of the day passed uneventfully. Andrew called me like he said he would, and we planned to go to dinner Thursday night, since we both had the day off.

Tuesday was like any other day. I worked, came home, and went to sleep. Wednesday arrived, and in all honesty I was feeling nervous. I woke up early at six am, and unable to go back to sleep, I showered and went about the house unnecessarily tidying up the rooms. I usually kept things in good order, so I didn't really _need_ to do it. But I was so anxious at the thought of Jareth's arrival, that I found myself cleaning everything. While doing this, there was some part of me that was still skeptical that Monday's visitor had even really appeared.

Finally around nine o'clock I made myself sit on the couch and work on writing. I decided to document all that had happened since Jareth arrived. I wrote an outline, filling it in with our conversation and how I felt about the situation. Around nine thirty the wind picked up outside, and the sky grew dark and heavy with storm clouds. From the couch I could see a bank of them slide into view, hiding the sun from sight.

The wind whistled over the chimney, some of it getting in and making grabs for the fire. The flames cowered down low in the fireplace, hiding beneath the logs and taking refuge from the extreme elements.

It was ten o'clock on the dot when the lock on my door flipped back with a click, and the door opened wide. Wind, and a thin dusting of powdered snow blew in, and I hurried to close the door. Once it was shut and locked, I turned to the room, feeling a strong sense of deja vu.

Jareth was once again sitting in my grandfather's armchair. He wore slightly more casual attire this time, and I wondered if his last outfit had been meant to intimidate me into accepting his business proposition. He wore a simple snowy white poets shirt under a brown jacket and pants tucked into dark chocolate brown heeled boots. His hair was slightly different, too. Longer, maybe, or else styled slightly different. It was also not as fluffy, and appeared darker, as well. Was it a little wet from the snow? I frowned to myself, considering this, and then focused once more on his face.

He was looking at me over his hand where his chin was resting, and I realized he was studying my own clothing. I wore a long sleeved sweater the same blue topaz color as my eyes. The sweater was form fitting but not overly so, and the deep blue jeans with silver designs sewn into the seams and pockets, were similar in that they fit well. On my feet I had thick socks and slippers. I was grateful I'd gone the extra mile by curling my wild hair, enough to leave it in loose ringlets. I'd also donned makeup, though no more than my usual amount.

All together, my outfit was considerably more modest than my pajamas. Even so, I felt my cheeks darken at his study of me. In an attempt to draw his attention to the present, I raised an eyebrow at him and crossed my arms as I spoke. "You could have just knocked, you know."

Jareth's eyes flit up to meet mine and held them momentarily captive. Coming to his feet, he strode with measured paces in my direction. "I could have. But I think your neighbors might get too curious that way." My eyebrows rose at this. Thoughtful, I looked back at the door, realizing he was right. I did have very nosy neighbors. Particularly Jack-my middle aged neighbor across the way-was especially overly helpful at times.

"That's true…" I murmured. A thought occurred to me, and unfolding my arms, I went to the door and unlocked it, opening it up. I heard Jareth take a few steps closer, but I ignored him in favor of looking at the path before my house, then down just before the door. The newspaper was there, wrapped in plastic and tied shut. "That'll work." I spoke just as quietly as before, and bent over and picked it up. I returned inside, eyes still on the newspaper as I closed and locked the door.

I could feel Jareth's eyes on me, and I faced him, holding up the newspaper, plastic and all. "What if you show up just as I'm getting the newspaper? That way my overly helpful neighbor across the way won't think that my door is broken, and try to come over to fix it."

Jareth's eyebrows rose at the ruse. "I suppose…" He allowed, but then his lips twisted as though he were displeased. "Does your neighbor visit often?" I raised my eyebrow. I was tempted to say, "Clearly you don't know many single, middle-aged men." but opted instead for a grudgingly positive remark. "He's been helpful before. He fixed the storm drain this last summer when we'd had a hard rain." I left out the fact that he also tried to look down my shirt while he was up on the ladder. Lightly tossing the newspaper onto the bench by the door, I crossed my arms.

"So. What now?"

Jareth's displeased look had gradually eased away, and now a mischievous gleam entered his mismatched eyes. "Now, I give you the item meant to aid in our communication." With a twist of his wrist, a crystal appeared in his hand, and he tossed it to me. Instinctively I caught it, but my heart did an uncomfortable dance at the suddenness of the action.

My brow furrowed as I lifted the crystal to look in it. My eyes flicked to meet his. "A crystal?" It seemed kind of big to be able to be used for a subtle communication device. There had to be more to it.

Jareth jerked his chin at the orb. "Turn it over in your hands." He said, folding his arms to wait. I paused, wondering what'd happen. I did as he said, taking the crystal in both hands-one hand atop it and one underneath. When I turned the crystal over, my hands were sucked toward it as it shrunk rapidly. The shape and texture of the crystal changed, and I opened my hands warily.

My eyes widened. The crystal had transformed, and in my hands was a small, elegantly decorated ring box. The fabric of it was a deep blue, with golden floral stitching on it. It was the kind of box meant for rings, but it could easily have something else in it.

I opened the box, unsure of what to expect. The color fled from my face. It was the engagement ring-/my/ engagement ring-from my story 'Goblins', exactly how I imagined it.

A golden filigree band, with three delicate golden feathers wrapped around and holding in place a tiny clear crystal. The same kind of crystals that Jareth's own magic took the form of. It was strange, but I could feel a sort of warmth coming off of it. Not physical warmth, though. More like a sense of calm and safety. It was a little startling to sense this, and I would have spent more time considering the feeling, if I didn't remember the goblin king who'd just given it to me. I swallowed in anxiety. "Oh…" I murmured breathlessly. I was completely surprised. I didn't know what Jareth had been planning to use, but I certainly had not expected anything like this.

Why would he use this? Was he trying to get back at me? Or was it really just that it was something we would both recognize? My chest physically hurt. Avoiding his gaze, I spoke. "I can understand how upset you might be about that story, Jareth-but don't you think this is a bit much?" My lips turned down in a thin frown, and I at last forced myself to meet his gaze.

Jareth's eyes darkened considerably-so much so that it sent a cold shiver down my spine, and I took a startled step backward when he took a step forward.

"I worked hard on this, for your sake. The least you can do is accept it." He took another step, and I could feel the space between me and the front door behind me compacting against my back. Jareth went on, "It will work well for our means, which is why I chose it to begin with." he glowered, and I shifted instinctively on my feet in apprehension, putting one foot back a step and standing my ground. I wasn't about to allow him to back me up against the door.

He noticed my stance and moved toward me until he seemed to think he was close enough to get his point across, and stopped just in front of me. I could feel the heat radiating from him, and his breath brushed across my face. "Would you rather I just appear without warning?"

At once I shook my head no, my thoughts flying to Andrew and his reaction to if the king happened to show up while he was at my house. That would be beyond bad. If Andrew didn't immediately freak out, he'd certainly issue a barrage of angry questions. "Well, then," Jareth snapped, glowering, "I think the ring will do just fine, don't you?"

I nodded-there was no point in arguing the topic further.

Jareth gestured at the ring. "Try it on." I removed the ring from the box, taking a moment to examine the craftsmanship of it. It sparkled in the light, and I had to admit it was stunning. But before I even put it on my finger, I could tell that it was too big. I put it on anyway, and the top heavy ring at once turned upside down on my finger.

"It's too big…" I began, and Jareth moved up close to me, taking up my right hand in his, he put his other hand's index finger and thumb on the ring. For a moment, everything around us seemed to stop. He slid his fingers along the band until the ring shrunk and fit comfortably. As he did this, he explained the ring to me. "You will know when I am coming when the crystal on the ring begins to glow. It will be faint, but grow brighter shoulder you fail to acknowledge it. To tell me you are ready, tap the crystal twice with your finger, and your response will be relayed to me. The light will extinguish once I receive your reply."

Once his explanation was completed, time seemed to resume, and Jareth took his hands away. I paused, then tested removing the ring and putting it back on again. Seeing that it fit much better, I spoke with some humility. "Thank you."

Jareth gave a pacified inclination of his head, and pointed at my laptop. "Shall we begin?"

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A/N: Chapter four! Sorry for the delay; I forgot I had planned to post on Mondays! The chapter wasn't finished and I had the day off so I was resting. Anywho. What did you think? PLEASE review to let me know. Your reviews keep me writing!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Chapter five is here! (Dramatic Trumpets sound) There's plenty going on in this chapter. Also, thank you for your patience in the delayed post of this chapter. I may start posting on tuesdays, but I'll keep the mindset of posting on mondays, so hopefully that will help.

Disclaimer: Don't own Labyrinth. Just my characters and this story idea.

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A Writer Required

Chapter Five

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Jareth told me the beginning of his story, about how he grew up in the goblin kingdom. He talked about his parents-the king and queen of the goblins-that they ruled well, and were adored by the people. Jareth told tales of his father's military prowess and strategic brilliance in crushing an invading army, as well as the small rebellion that had given insider information to that army. Clearly not everyone had liked the goblin monarchy; but those who did rose to the occasion to assist in stopping that rebellion.

His mother was a kind and compassionate woman, but was not afraid to put Jareth or his father in their place when she deemed they were in need of it. Jareth particularly needed it, he admitted. As a child he was wild, running about in the maze without his parents knowledge. The maze had not been particularly pleased by his adventures in the beginning. His parents had found him more than once stuck in an oubliette or put in an endless circle by the maze. Too determined to find the way himself, he refused to call for help and instead wander until he was exhausted and would fall asleep wherever he was. But he soon learned the maze's tricks and could roam without worry of being trapped or hurt.

Eventually the maze grew to care for him, bending within reason to his will. His father was highly impressed by this, even allowing him to make improvements.

Which, interestingly enough, was how the Bog of Eternal Stench came into existence.

I couldn't help smiling at that. The title made sense when you realized it was a child that had given it its name. But the title was only humorous, until you got a whiff of its odorous nature, and that would promptly squash the humor. Jareth chuckled at the description I'd written, when I read it back to him, and then he continued.

He told me about how as a teenager he had nearly been killed by a deadly windstorm on his first flight in his owl form. Later he'd tamed a wild dragon, and then met his first love. I listened with interest to all he said, typing as he spoke. But at the mention of his first sweetheart, I grew immediately more alert. The goblin king's first crush? How adorable was that?

Jareth seemed reluctant to share when he saw my expression, his cheeks actually reddening, and he stood from the chair to face the fireplace to hide it. What he didn't realize, was that the fire's warm glow only further emphasized the fact that his cheeks were unusually flushed. I hid a smile behind my laptop screen, lifting it on my knees to type and ducking my head down low to spare him further embarrassment. He didn't see me, and eventually as he told me his tale, he sat in the arm chair nearby. Once comfortable, Jareth described the fae girl he'd fallen in love with as a teenager.

She was beautiful, and he admitted to being smitten upon first seeing her. Jareth stared at the fire, but his eyes were far away.

Her name was Mella. With hair red like the finest of rubies, and blue eyes that mocked the deepest sea's depths. These twin jewels occasionally sparkled with mirth like moonlight on the sea, and she was dazzling. Skin reminiscent of caramel, she was born in the northern regions where the burning sun reigned. Born to a desert from royal parents, she had the ability to transform into any creature she fancied. Her people were shape shifters; ever-changing as the wind. The people migrated constantly, never in the same place for long, but the few places they stayed, they made their own. Some, like the royalty, lived in canyons laced with rope bridges, and homes carved into the canyon walls. While others built huts or clay structures on solid ground near an oasis or the winding river.

Jareth and Mella met during a time that goblin princes, at a certain age near to adulthood, were required to take away from the Labyrinth to get to know the world better. Jareth had brought with him the dragon he'd tamed, and in disguise he traveled through every kingdom. Eventually the young goblin prince arrived in the desert of the north, and there he met her.

Flying high above, Jareth spotted her fighting down on the desert dunes against a large desert beast. He was about to intervene, but when he saw how well she was doing on her own, he thought better of it. She didn't need his help, certainly. Jareth almost continued, but the fight took a turn for the worst when the beast caught her shoulder in its teeth. Swooping in a silent dive, the dragon roared in warning to the beast. The massive beast let go, startled. It was similar to a tiger-like those of the mortal realm-but it was easily four times the size. At once it moved to get in between the dragon and its prey. But before the creature could move far, the dragon landed, talons of one clawed hand clamping down hard on the beast and slamming it to the sandy ground.

Jareth ordered the dragon to hold the creature in place, and jumped down from the dragon's back. Mella was lying on the sand, barely conscious; though she was aware enough of her surroundings to send him a suspicious glare. He convinced her to ride with him on the dragon so he could take her home. Jareth ordered the dragon to release the tiger, and it scrambled away from the dragon with appropriate terror.

Returning her to her people in their canyon home, the king was awed by the mysterious dragon tamer. He expressed great gratitude for the rescue and return of his daughter, and welcomed Jareth to stay as long as he liked. It was then that Jareth got to know Mella and her people, and he truly began to fall in love with her.

But Mella was as fiery in temperament as the sun that scorched her desert homeland. Moods frequently changing, it became difficult for Jareth to woo her consistently. Her people were flighty, and had little desire to pick a particular mate. Mella was no different, and after a time she grew bored by Jareth's affections. Even her father's encouragement for a union failed-although Jareth suspected that his interference may only have pushed her further away from the idea.

Heartbroken, Jareth left, moving on to the east to the ocean where the mermaids resided-

An alarm on my phone sounded, cutting both me and Jareth off. It was my work alarm!

"Oh crap!" I went beet red when Jareth looked at me and rose an eyebrow, a smirk playing upon his lips. "Uh-I mean I gotta go. I have to leave for work!" I flicked a few keys and saved the document on my laptop, then snapped the computer closed and came to my feet. "I'll see you Friday, right?"

"Yes." Jareth said, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from his jacket as he stood from his newly designated armchair. "Friday morning." He confirmed. I waved him to the door, absentmindedly slipping out of my slippers and into my work shoes while on my way there. I picked up my bag, making sure I had everything I needed inside.

"Great." I said, distracted, and an idea occurred to me. We had yet to decide how Jareth would take his leave after each visit. I'd been trying to think of a way ever since we decided how he would arrive, but in getting my things ready for work, the solution came to me. Jareth could go as I was leaving for work! All I had to do was get ready and open the door, then step aside. Jareth would zip past and I'd close and lock the door behind us. It would be perfect! "I think I have your exit strategy figured out-or our exit strategy, really." I amended.

Meeting his questioning gaze, I explained my idea. Jareth accepted this plan without argument, and once we were ready, I opened the door. As before, Jareth zipped past me at impossible speeds, vanishing and later reappearing in the sky as an owl. I waited a moment more until he was over the neighbor's house, to be sure he got away alright. I briefly checked to be sure the fire in the fireplace would burn down properly, then left as well.

It took me longer than usual to lock my door-because like a goose, I'd forgotten to get my keys out of my bag before stepping outside. I grumbled. Did I forget them inside? I was about to step back in the house to check, but a feeling like I was being watched burned into my shoulderblades. I wondered at it, until I realized that this feeling was familiar. Movement in the reflection on my window beside the door caught my eye. Someone was across the street.

Plastering a hopefully sincere smile onto my face, I shuffled reluctantly to face my neighbor, Jack. He was on the sidewalk across the street, shovel in hand. Having finished the stretch of cement before his door and garage, he was just starting on the main sidewalk. He'd paused when I came out and straightened up in what he probably meant to be a masculine, confident look.

With renewed purpose, I dug around in my bag for my keys. "For the love of bacon, where are they?!" I hissed under my breath desperately, as I attempted to hold my smile. "Hello Jack!" I called. My neighbor blinked. He was so busy staring at my coat clad chest that he failed to respond at the appropriate time.

"...Oh, uh, hey!" He offered a wave and a delayed smile. "H-How are you?" He stuttered. My smile faltered when I saw where his gaze had been focused. Pressing quickly on as I waved my hand vaguely, my smile was more forced than before. "Alright. You?" Jack nodded, though it wasn't particularly convincing.

"Good, just shovelin'..." He trailed off, and hefted the shovel up to show it to me. He did it with effort, though, and tried to hide how hard it was for him to lift it. I nodded back. "That's good. Don't work yourself too hard, though. It's pretty cold outside. You probably should take a break every now and then." Jack's eyes brightened at my advice and my stomach sank. He might've taken that as an invitation.

Making his way over, my discomfort grew and my hand flew into over drive. My hand struck key gold. I just barely stopped a triumphant: "Yes!" in success as I pulled out the keys and turned to my door. Locking it, I listened to Jack's footsteps as they crossed the street toward me. Once the task was completed, I spun round on my heel to make my way down the stairs, and stopped short when I saw them. Apprehension hit me like an icy brick.

The frozen dust was overlapping the stairs in height and width, making them reminiscent of a ski slope, instead of stairs. Honestly I hated walking on them when the snow was that deep. Attempting to do it was a terrifying guessing game of: 'Stair? Or no stair?'.

No thanks. I choose life.

I heaved an internal sigh. I'd have to shovel the snow off of the stairs later, I didn't have the time now. Heart beating, I carefully swept one foot side to side, one step at a time through the snow to knock it off enough to find each step before stepping on it fully. I'd be in trouble if too much snow compacted into ice. Jack halted on my sidewalk just as I reached the bottom of the stairs, and his brow furrowed in concern. "I can shovel off those stairs for you, if you like." He offered, and my smile transformed into one of sincere gratitude. "Really? Thank you, that'd be really great!"

Jack looked suddenly dazed by my positive reaction, and his eyes glazed over as he stared at me to the point that I became immensely uncomfortable. My smile started to fall. "Uh, Jack?..." Snapping out if it, Jack bobbed his head hurriedly and his cheeks brightened, "No problem, no problem! I'll have them done in a jiffy!" and he started with gusto right away at the foot of the stairs. "Thank you!" I called as I walked away, and he waved before going back to his task. He really was a nice guy, I had to give him credit for that. Still, he made me uncomfortable, and I couldn't drop my guard just because of a single nice deed.

By the time I got home from work, I was exhausted. It had been a rough day. Jack had been as good as his word, and there wasn't a snowflake on the stairs or sidewalk. "I'll make him homemade oreos." I thought decidedly, and hurried into the house with a shiver when the wind picked up.

The next day I was excited. I had a date with Andrew later for dinner at a fancy restaurant one town over. It was his favorite, and the food was really, really good. Earlier in the day I whipped up a batch of homemade oreos like I had planned, but had a mishap part way through the process. While reaching into the oven to get the cookiesheet out, I burned my hand just between my knuckle and Jareth's ring on the oven rack. Quickly running my hand under cold water from the tap, I waited until the pain had abated to examine the burn better. To my dismay, I discovered that the burn hadn't just gotten that finger; it'd gotten all three of the fingers around it, too.

I tried baking with the ring on, but the ring rubbed against the burn, aggravating it. Concerned the band would break the burned skin and get infected, I carefully pried the ring off and set it down on the counter.

As soon as the ring left my fingertips, I felt abruptly sick. The crystal seemed to become dimmer, and I noticed that the previous feeling of safety and calm the ring had given me, was now gone. Feeling unsettled, I carefully tried the ring on each of the fingers of my left hand. The only finger it would fit on was my left ring finger.

I made a face. Really? Was the ring bespelled to be annoyingly ironic? I remembered the cookies, then, and hurried on to finish them.

I dropped the cookies off at Jack's about a half hour later. I'd planned to give half to him and half to Andrew, since they were Andrew's favorite. He invited me in, but I politely declined. "I have a date with Andrew later." I beamed, and his face fell into a small scowl. "Andrew? I thought you two broke up not too long ago?" My smile faded. It was true that Andrew and I had had a brief break during our relationship. He'd been frustrated that I wouldn't sleep with him. He'd said if we were to get married, that he wanted to further the relationship before then.

Indignant, I'd refused. I wasn't going to sleep with him unless I was married to him, and I told him as much. I was happy to explore that part of our relationship after marriage, and not before. Frustrated, Andrew declared that maybe we needed a break, and in shock, I agreed. It was a full three months before he called me again. He admitted that he was wrong, and gradually we reconciled.

I came back to the present as Jack cleared his throat and tossed his eyes down at my hand. "Andrew give that to you?" He questioned, and I followed his gaze to my left hand. Jareth's ring glimmered on my ring finger, the crystal sparkling in the light. I'd forgotten all about it.

"No, this isn't from Andrew. It was from a friend." I hesitated on the word 'friend' and Jack's brow furrowed. Feeling awkward, I was thinking about saying goodbye when my phone rang. Relieved by the excuse, I waved at him. "Shoot, sorry, that could be work. Enjoy the cookies!" Jack nodded and offered a quick wave as I hurried home. I answered my phone once inside. But instead of work, It was Andrew calling to verify our date. "I'll be ready!" I assured him.

I picked a little black dress cut just below my knees and added small gold earrings set with a single round crystal each. The crystals were cut like diamonds, and caught the light in a spectacular way. A simple gold bracelet with the same design adorned my wrist, and a gold chain with one small crystal hanging from it graced my neck. I added thin gold eyeliner and slipped on simple black kitten heel shoes.

Andrew came to the door at six, looking well in a dark suit and coat. I'd wrapped up the other homemade oreos and gave them to Andrew upon his arrival. His eyes lit up first at my appearance, then he grinned at the cookies. "Fantastic! Thanks!" I giggled at his expression. They were his favorite cookies, and I noticed they always seemed to make him smile. Taking them in one hand, he offered me his free arm, and we left for the restaurant. As we were making our way down the street, movement caught my eye. Jack was sitting at his window. His eyes met mine for only a moment, but the displeasure I saw in them grew stronger when they swept sideways to focus on Andrew.

I avoided looking at Jack, but I thought about his reaction. He really didn't like Andrew. But what I couldn't figure out, was why. He didn't even know Andrew! I peeked at my boyfriend. How could Jack dislike Andrew so much, when he barely knew him? Could it be Jack liked me more than I thought? Or was he picking up something I wasn't? I shook my head mentally to shoo that thought. Andrew was far from perfect, but he had treated me well.

I cast a glance out of the corner of my eye at Jack again, and went a little red in the face in discomfort. He was looking at me again. Realizing that I'd caught him, the older man averted his gaze in a hurry. He scowled and turned his back before he settled into his armchair and unpaused his television. Some modern crime show began playing again on it. "Everything alright?" Andrew's voice pulled my attention back to him, and I quickly put on a smile. "Yeah, just thinking." I eyed the street ahead of us, looking at the snow blanketed landscape. "The snow makes everything look so beautiful." I sighed contentedly, wrapping both my arms loosely around his arm. "It does." Andrew smiled at me, and in an instant I found myself putting all thoughts of Jack and his peculiar behavior to the back of my mind.

Tonight was about Andrew and me, and nothing else. Tonight, I would be happy.

The drive to the restaurant was filled with warm conversation, my hand clasped in Andrew's on the way. I thought about how our relationship had really blossomed over the last few weeks. Andrew had been stepping up his game in being more and more of a gentleman, and I found myself making even more of an effort in my appearance, as well as doing little acts of kindness for him.

At the restaurant we were almost immediately seated despite the line, Andrew having made reservations for us. It was a dimly lit, elegantly decorated interior, perfect for a pair of lovers. He got us a small booth along the wall, lit by a small pendant light above us, and a candle on the table. At the end of dessert, Andrew gently took up my hands in his, looking suddenly nervous. "Amelia, I need to ask you something…" Andrew started, then stopped abruptly. Brow furrowing, he leaned forward to peer at my hand. He'd noticed Jareth's ring-I'd forgotten all about it.

"...What is this?" Andrew questioned suddenly, and his eyes narrowed above a frown as he studied the ring on my left hand.

"Oh…" I trailed off as I looked at the ring. My face darkened in a heavy blush that made me grateful the lighting in the restaurant was so dim. Since I'd burned my knuckles while baking today, I'd had to switch the ring from my right index finger to my left ring finger. It looked like an engagement ring. I gulped. "...It was a gift. I originally was wearing it on this hand." I waved the fingers of my right hand the tiniest amount where it rested in Andrew's. I winced minutely at the pain. The burns across my fingers were obvious to him now when I pointed them out, and he examined it with concern. I hurried on to speak before he could ask. "I burned myself while baking, and it hurt too much to wear the ring. My ring finger is similar in size, so I put it there instead." I nudged the ring with my pinky, and it shifted a little. "It's looser, but it fits better here than on any other finger." I shrugged.

"Hmm." Andrew hummed, studying the ring with delicate care. He turned my hand in his so the ring caught the light, and he reluctantly admitted. "It's beautiful." I smiled a little, pleased that he liked it. I had designed it, after all.

Andrew spent only a moment more on it before releasing that hand and taking my burned one in both of his, cradling it. "Your burn looks bad, have you put anything on it?"

My heart warmed at his concern, but I shook my head negatively. "No. It's a superficial burn, so it's best to just keep it clean and uncovered while I let it heal. I heal fast, so it'll be fine in about a week." I shrugged, and Andrew frowned at the burn. Without another word, he lifted my hand and placed a tender, feather light kiss on it. My heart fluttered with warmth and my breath came out in a silent sigh. It was such a simple gesture from him; and at the same time it was incredibly romantic.

"Andrew…" I began, breathless, and his eyes met mine with such hot intensity that it made my heart beat faster to see it. I felt abruptly warm before I caught myself and blinked, ducking my head. 'Whoa.' I thought. 'Hang on.' I had to remember that Andrew wanted more before our marriage, and I couldn't let him think I'd changed my mind. "Andrew-" I began. He leaned closer, though, while I was thinking and his gaze shifted to my lips. "Amelia-" Startled, I looked up just as his lips met mine. His kiss was gentle to begin with, but gradually grew hotter. I should have broken it. But suddenly like a light switch, all my cares vanished. I was lost.

One of his hands moved delicately into my curled hair, and the other took up my left hand to pull me closer. We were almost flush against each other, when Andrew broke the kiss with a jerk and gasped in pain as he released my entirely. "Ow!" He hissed, leaning back.

Like coming out of a dense fog, I blinked rapidly, feeling dazed. "...W-What's wrong?" When Andrew didn't answer, I noticed he was peering with a pained, wrinkled brow at his lap. My eyes fell down to his hand where he had it cradled. "Your ring-I think it cut me." Andrew grimaced in pain, showing me the cut. My eyes grew wide at the sight. It wasn't a cut to sniff at, either.

It was deep. Blood was spreading down and beginning to cover his palm, about to drip off. Quickly I went into first aid mode and snatched up my napkin, wrapping it around his hand. "My ring did that?" I questioned in disbelief. "Keep pressure on that with the napkin, we'll want to wash it as soon as we can." I half ordered, and Andrew did so without complaint. He knew I had training. While Andrew applied pressure to the cut, I turned my attention to the ring. The slightest hint of red could be seen tainting the tips of one of the feathers.

My cheeks flooded with color in anger. It really had cut him! I went to pull the ring off-I'd have words with Jareth later about getting it fixed; because this was far from acceptable-but it wouldn't so much as budge. I was stopped from pulling on it further when Andrew spoke in a worried rush. "Don't! It might cut you, too!" I stared in surprise at him. He almost looked panicked. Was he really that concerned I'd get cut?

Our waiter appeared like a phantom out of the darkness, scaring me half to death as she extended the folder enclosing the bill. I paid without looking at the bill, practically shoving my card at the poor woman, and then helped Andrew out of the booth. "Where's the nearest hospital?" I demanded. She looked bewildered and bordering on a possibly snooty response-until Andrew stepped up next to me and his bloodied hand came into sight. She gaped and my face went hot with angry impatience. "Hospital. Where?" I ground out. She blinked out of her stupor and waved us toward the door. "Of course! I can write you directions." I replied curtly, "Thank you." and she led us to the main doors.

Four stitches.

Andrew's cut had had to have four, freaking, stitches. I fumed the entire time, alternating between that and trying to pry the ring off my finger when Andrew wasn't paying attention. He got anxious every time he noticed that I was trying to get it off, seeming to think the same would happen to me if I tried too much. I finally gave it up when he looked really worried, and instead I settled for sitting next to him while an emergency room doctor stitched him up.

He was stitched and cleaned up in no time, and the doctor said he'd be fine to drive, despite my protests. I told Andrew as we were leaving the hospital that I would drive, but he stubbornly insisted that he would be alright. Even with his reassurances, I kept a watchful eye on his hand.

The drive was silent, and it wasn't for a little while that I remembered something. "I'm so sorry, Andrew. I had no idea the ring was at all sharp." Andrew nodded jerkily, his eyes still fixed on the road. "It's fine. Maybe part of it came loose or something?" He suggested.

I nodded, though my lips tugged down in a frown. I wasn't convinced. I examined the ring on my hand where it rested in my lap, the moonlight playing off the crystal and making it almost appear to glow. The feathers were wrapped tightly around the tiny globe now; but before-after Andrew had cut himself and I'd noticed the blood on one of the feathers-I could swear the three feathers were further away from the crystal. So was it my imagination? Had the feathers moved? It was a magical ring after all, so I supposed it could be possible. Or, had I simply imagined their movement, and pushed the feathers closer to the crystal with my attempts to get the whole thing off? I studied the offending jewelry. Innocently, it shone back up at me. I didn't know if it had moved or not, and not knowing made me wary.

'When I see Jareth tomorrow, I'll talk to him about the ring.' I decided. My eyes returned to Andrew, guilt and anger warring within me. I wanted answers, and Jareth was going to give them to me.

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A/N: So what do you think? Am I moving too fast? Or is it good? Please for the love of goblins everywhere, review and let me know your thoughts. Thanks! ^_^


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I'm glad you guys liked chapter five! Here's six! This chapter flew from my fingertips right after I finished chapter five. Looking forward to hearing your thoughts. ^_^ Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth!

* * *

A Writer Required

Chapter Six

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Furious.

I was furious.

 _Beyond_ , furious.

Absolutely _seething_.

I kissed Andrew goodnight and watched him drive away, before going inside to bed after our disastrous date. I thought about tomorrow. Jareth was in for a real surprise if he thought I would tolerate the harm that had come to Andrew. But when I went to bed, all I could think about was what I would say to him. I was angry, certainly. My fury alone would lend its verbal prowess, so in that way I wasn't concerned with expressing myself.

But what about the ring? I glared at it on my hand. The golden feathers twinkled cheerfully back at me like distant stars in the near pitch black. The crystal orb magnified those lights on the far side of it, enhancing its beauty. What would I say to Jareth about the ring? I didn't want to give it up and lose our only method of communication; but I sure as frost on an autumn leaf didn't want it hurting anyone else I cared about, either.

I gave it one last attempt in trying to pull the ring off, and was frustrated when it refused to budge. "For goodness sake!" I burst out, sitting up in bed. "You have got to be kidding me." I watched the ring a moment longer. I needed to think, but I couldn't do it lying here.

Getting out of bed, I dressed in the dark into my warm running clothes. While I was finishing tying my tennis shoes, I thought I saw the ring glow a moment, as though it recognized that something was off. It was oddly pensive, almost concerned. But it was faint, and only lasted for a half of a second. A shiver went down my spine. Was the ring somehow aware? Would it tell Jareth something was wrong? Not wanting to think more on that idea, I hurried from the house.

Night was in full force, now. The few sparse clouds in the sky were illuminated by the moon and what stars I could see. I started off walking, just focusing on my breathing and the sidewalk before me. In my haste to be outside, I'd forgotten all about the ice, and realized I wouldn't be able to run.

A bit dismayed by this revelation, I opted for walking in a nearby park. Cherry Orchard Park was an older park-one of the first ones to be built on the outskirts of town-and the trees were enormous and gnarled from age and rough weathering. Here and there actual cherry trees were placed throughout the area as a way to give more to the community. Starting on the winding path, I let my mind wander as I went.

Coming up on the third turn, I heard a familiar sound above me near a tree to my right. My eyes were drawn up to some of its lower branches, where on one, a large white barn owl was sitting, staring at me.

My steps faltered.

Was it Jareth? Or an actual owl? I studied it. I knew we had owls in the area, but I didn't think barn owls were especially common-weren't they usually closer to the east?

We looked at each other. If it was Jareth, what was he doing here? Then I remembered the ring. It'd glowed just before I left the house. Had the ring alerted him? I recalled that the glow was how the ring communicated. Could it have warned him that something was amiss? Frustration pulled my lips into a frown. 'No, not amiss.' I thought. 'Downright not ok.'

I focused again on the owl. So it was most likely Jareth. I know I had planned to give him a piece of my mind; but at the moment I needed to think some more without having to worry about him being around. Nevermind the fact that I would probably look like a bag of mixed nuts, standing under a cherry tree and yelling at what would likely turn out to be an ordinary owl.

I tore my gaze away from the owl. Right now I needed space and time to think, and especially to work out some of my anger. Walking on, I left the cherry tree and owl behind me, breathing in the cool blue wintery air. I'd gotten maybe three steps before I heard a faint 'whoosh!' and felt the air behind me shift and turn heavy.

"Stop!" Jareth's sharp voice commanded.

I reluctantly slowed in my steps as I came to a halt. I began to turn to face him, when I stopped, thoughtful. If I was going to have some control in this situation, then I needed to show him that regardless of what he wanted, he couldn't control me. By not giving him my full attention, I was silently conveying as much.

Even without fully facing Jareth, I could still see him out of the corner of my eye-could still sense him. His snowy white figure was standing in the shadow of the thick trunk of the cherry tree. Was he wearing all white, then? It was appropriate, I thought, when you considered the current landscape.

"What?" I questioned bluntly, impatience eating up the majority of my tone. I was feeling suddenly tired. I hadn't expected this business deal to be such a hassle. I hadn't expected it to be easy, either, knowing who I was dealing with, but I definitely hadn't expected things to get so extreme. I could feel his mood darkening the air between us when he bristled and swept up to me. Reaching out, he snatched up my right hand and pulled me around to face him.

"Ow!" I yelped in pain, wincing. Jareth looked startled but failed to release me.

"Let go, I burned my hand!" I snapped, tugging my hand away from his when he abruptly released it. Examining the burns, I discovered the skin was unbroken, thankfully, but more painful now than it had been previously. I brought my attention back to Jareth when he spoke.

"You burned yourself? How?" He demanded and stepped closer to reach for my hand again, but I tucked it against my chest in a fist to keep it from him. "I was baking."

Jareth frowned in consternation. "Let me see it."

"No!" I blurted, and he looked almost bewildered within his consternation. "It will heal fine on it's own. I'm a quick healer, I don't need your help." I really didn't want to be in his debt if he healed it for me. Jareth's eyebrows rose and fell.

"Indeed?" He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and folded his arms. "Are you hurt often?"

I shoved my hands into my coat pockets, my expression grim with discomfort. "I get sick a lot." I admitted. It was true-I had almost died on more than one occasion because of one illness or another-but I wasn't going to say as much, or any more on the subject; not to him.

His expression shifted and became stubborn. "You cannot write if you are injured."

Incredulity overcame my expression. He was concerned about his story? I studied his eyes. He didn't give two fig leaves about me! "Right," I bit out, my sarcasm emerging. "because I'm only as useful as a writing instrument, right? And we can't have our writing instrument broken, now can we? Thanks for that."

Jareth bristled in anger. "That is not what I meant."

"Oh no?" I scoffed in disbelief. "Your actions thus far would say otherwise." I waved a hand at his entire person. "If you're in such a hurry to have your story written, why don't you just magick a quill and ink and talk to it? I'm sure you'd get everything written just as you want it."

The goblin king hesitated a breath. "It would not be the same." He finally replied, his voice strangely lower.

I gave him a quizzical look. "Why not?" I demanded. I didn't understand magic, but with all he could do, couldn't he manage something like that? Or at the very least have someone in his world write for him? What was the big deal? Why did it have to be me?

Jareth didn't answer, and I took a deep breath and a full step back. I'd made a mistake in getting close to him. His fragrance was overwhelming, spicy and crisp but also somehow warm. He was too much to take in, and I needed a second to regroup. Satisfied with the distance, I spoke. "Take the ring off."

His eyes flashing in anger, I stood my ground as he came closer. Back straight, I stared him right in the eye. He halted before me, the warmth of his being filling the much shorter gap between us. It made me realize how cold I was.

Jareth's voice was low, dangerous. "Fae gifts are not to be treated lightly."

I responded at once. "In your world gifts may have particular importance, but in my world we don't entrap people with them!" My eyes narrowed in warning. "So if you think because you gave me this ring, that you have some kind of fae claim on me, you've got another thing coming."

Jareth raised an eyebrow. "Regardless of any 'claim' I might have on you, Fae gifts come with their own qualities and unique abilities."

Finally I snapped at him. "Look, it's come down to the point that my boyfriend Andrew-who has nothing whatever to do with our deal, if you recall-got hurt by the ring, and I am NOT ok with that."

Jareth's eyes widened for a split second, and the atmosphere dramatically took a dive into deep, cold water, when the mismatched eyes narrowed. "It _what?"_ His reaction threw me.

Something was wrong. I saw it in Jareth's eyes. I found myself pushing it half way to the back of my mind, not really wanting to acknowledge the change in him at the moment; for fear of what it might mean. I half ignored the difference to explain what had happened. "His hand," I began, raising my own left hand to show Jareth my palm. "the feathers on the ring cut Andrew's palm really badly." At my words, the ring sparkled in the light, and I got the strangest, distinct impression, that it was quite proud of itself. I glowered at the jewelry until movement from Jareth brought my attention to his stricken expression when he leaned toward me, his eyes on the ring.

The earlier worry returned. What was wrong with him? "Show me the ring." His voice was quiet, strained even. He didn't wait for me to show him. In front of me in an instant, he took my hand and pulled it closer-pulling me with it-to examine it in more detail.

"I-Is something wrong?" I questioned, beginning to feel a bit panicked.

He remained silent.

Seeing that he wasn't going to respond, a thought occurred to me. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out. "Why is the ring so proud of itself?"

Jareth froze, his eyes flicking upward to fix themselves on mine. He looked at me as though really seeing me for the first time; and there was a flicker of surprise in his countenance that filled my face with wary color.

But as quickly as the look came, it changed to one of bitter-almost a mocking-sardonic humor. "The ring may be magical, Amelia, but it is still just a ring. It can't be emotional." He dropped my hand with cool indifference. "As for what happened with your Andrew, your ring must have found something it didn't like about your situation and attempted to remedy it."

My brow furrowed. What could the ring possibly not like? But then I remembered earlier that night, and my eyebrows suddenly rose. Was it the kiss I shared with Andrew at the restaurant? Was that why the ring had reacted so violently? If so, then it needed to change. "The ring didn't like that I was kissing Andrew?" It was more a blunt statement than a question.

Jareth's eyes darkened and his expression became stony. "If he was harmed by the ring at that moment, then yes, it is possible. The ring might also have felt that he was an unnecessary distraction."

"...'An unnecessary distraction'...!" I breathed, my jaw falling open. "Are you kidding me? So I'm not allowed to have a love life while also working for you?" Jareth didn't reply, and my face reddened further in outrage. "Well news flash, Jareth." Mismatched eyes narrowed at me, but I ignored them. "My relationships are none of your, or the ring's, business. The ring is going to have to change-and in a hurry, too-because I am not breaking up with Andrew any time soon!" I plowed on, really angry now. "He's a good man, and I haven't met one of those in a really long time. Not sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not leaving him just because a magic ring has decided to be moody about my relationship status!"

He scowled, and I finished. "Change it, or we're done."

Utter silence fell.

The wind flowed past us, hesitant. It was as though it were wary to interrupt our heated argument. That was a wise decision. I was already in a terrible mood, and I really didn't like the wind. For it to add to our already turbulent atmosphere, would likely have pushed me into an even fouler temper, if humanly possible.

Silence continued to pass, and I was beginning to fear that he would never relent. At last he spoke. "Very well."

Relief eased my shoulders and a small measure of anger left me. "Because you placed the ring on your ring finger, the ring's magic has become stronger." At my anxious expression, he explained. "The veins of that finger tie directly to your heart. The ring has bonded with you in a magical sense, becoming part of your person." I gaped at Jareth, horrified at the implications of his words. "I can adjust the ring to allow you take it off, but it will feel to you as if part of you is missing." Lips turning down grimly, he warned. "It will be uncomfortable."

I studied the ring. How much more uncomfortable could I be? I couldn't remove the ring at all now, so how would removing it not be more comfortable? At last I nodded.

"Do it."

Like before when Jareth had first adjusted the ring's size, time seemed to stop still. He adjusted the size again this time so that it fit better, and then the air grew heavy with what I could only assume was magic. He murmured under his breath and a light, airy warmth like hot spring water flowed up my arm like a wave. It stopped only a second at my shoulder, then flowed down again until it vanished from my fingertips. With a final word, Jareth finished the spell, and the ring felt warm.

I tested taking it off, and I was reminded of Jareth's warning of discomfort. Mild nausea hit me, and the feeling of safety the ring had offered, vanished. Focusing on ignoring the nausea, I instead examined my ring finger.

The place where the ring had been wasn't even remotely sore. It hadn't hurt me, despite my constant efforts to remove it. So it hurt others, but it wouldn't harm me? Was that it? That thought made me angry.

"Thank you." I bit out, replacing the ring on my finger, and Jareth curtly inclined his head.

"Before you return home, I ask one favor of you." His words had me on edge in a hurry, and I listened wearily. "Leave the ring on your hand until you are safely inside." He advised it with such seriousness, that I wondered if I shouldn't be worried.

Still, I had no problem doing that, and I easily agreed. "Fine." Stepping past him, my farewell was curt. "Good night, Jareth." I walked away, the only sound coming from the snow crunching under my tennis shoes. Jareth went the same way he arrived. The heaviness in the air changed and was lighter, and the flutter of wings sounded as he took flight and passed over me. Jareth disappeared beyond the trees, blending in with the distant white clouds.

As soon I got home and had bolted the door, I pulled the ring off. The mild nausea returned, and the safety I'd felt disappeared. Ignoring the feeling, I wrapped the ring up in my fist and walked to my room. I placed the ring on the bedside table and after changing for bed, slipped under the heavy blankets.

But, I couldn't sleep. No matter how hard I tried, or didn't try, I could not fall asleep. It was three o'clock in the morning when I finally gave up the fight and put the ring back on. I was asleep almost as soon as my head met with the pillow, and in the morning I felt remarkably well rested.

I'd never slept better-and I hated the ring for it.

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A/N: That last line, guys… XD Oh I love it. Anyway! What do you think?


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I'm glad you guys liked chapter six! Here's seven, with the hope that it's as good or better! ^_^

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth!

* * *

A Writer Required

Chapter Seven

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The weekend passed without incident. Andrew visited me on Saturday, and he was wary of the ring. But once I explained that it had been fixed so it wouldn't hurt him, he didn't seem to mind it as much. "Well, that's good." His relief was evident on his face. Sunday was the day that my sister, Elizabeth-or Lizzie, as we called her-came to town. Lizzie was an artist and she did very well for herself. She lived in California, but was coming to pick up a few of her old art tools and some furniture from our parents.

Lizzie had been commissioned to do a series of oil paintings, and she preferred to get the supplies she already had as opposed to buying new ones. These tools were particularly special, though, because they'd once belonged to our grandmother. The furniture, too, held sentimental value. They had belonged to our grandparents, saved for Lizzie by our parents for when she was able to get an apartment.

She spent Sunday packing up everything she needed, saying she didn't need help-aside from the two men who'd driven the moving truck that had arrived with her. Her own car was too little for more than a couple of boxes to fit into, so she packed a great many different sizes of blank canvases inside it instead. The man who had commissioned her insisted on providing the moving truck. Apparently he was also handsome, single, and absurdly wealthy. I suspected by how my sister talked about him, that there was also some serious mutual interest going on between them.

On Monday morning Lizzie and I went out for a late breakfast-or early lunch, because she would be leaving soon. We'd wanted to catch up before she headed back to California. Everything was already packed, leaving us to enjoy a warm meal and each other's company.

I was telling Lizzie all about what I had going on in my life at the moment, mostly work and Andrew, and a new project I'd picked up. I borrowed her pen to write down my home address for her in her sketch pad, so she could later send me one of her pieces. I loved her work; it was always so life-like. It took your breath away just glancing at it, and I was vastly proud of her.

Just as I was finishing writing out my address, the pen slipped out of my hand and fell to the floor. I apologized sheepishly and Lizzie bent down to pick it up.

"So what were you saying?" Lizzie asked, sitting back up in her seat. Honestly, I'd purposefully dropped her pen. I'd had a good reason, too.

For after our meal and during our conversation, the crystal on my ring from Jareth began to grow warm and glow as if with sunlight. Lizzie noticed. At first, I had been able to make up an excuse, "Oh, it catches the light really well." but when it grew too bright, I'd had to turn it on my finger and fold my arms. It was when it grew too hot, and the ring's mood strangely insistent, that I'd had to drop my sister's pen to give myself enough time to pry the ring from my finger.

The ring's light extinguished as soon as I removed it, and I stashed it in an inner pocket of my bottomless pit of a purse. The nausea hit and I took a deep, shaky breath to quell it-hoping I wasn't about to lose my lunch. I'd just barely managed to turn around and offer her a sheepish expression as she sat back in her seat, looking dubious. "Are you alright?" She asked. "You seem… flustered."

My cheeks filled with color and I took a quick swig of my water to cover it up. I waved a hand and shook my head, putting my drink down. "I've just been tired. Work's been really stressful lately, and-" I was stopped by a looming figure that halted beside our table.

Understandably startled, we stared up at the handsome face of a tall, blue eyed man. His blonde hair was cut short and very stylish, and when I saw him, I felt like I couldn't breathe. He was wearing a black suit with a suit coat over it, and an expensive white dress shirt and black slacks. He wore shiny black dress shoes, and overall, he wore the ensemble quite well.

He was smiling charmingly at us, but there was a tenseness around his eyes that he directed specifically at me. His eyes passed over both of us and then over myself in greater detail, before focusing on my ringless hand. His eyes hardened though the smile remained as charming as when he'd arrived.

I couldn't manage a response. I was too overcome by the fact that before me, in sight of everyone, stood the Goblin King. In disguise, of course; but he was made all the more alarming to me by his modern garb. I'd almost not recognized him, and I couldn't quite manage to speak. My sister, however, in having no idea who this stranger who had interrupted us was, had little trouble speaking her mind.

"Um… can we help you?" Lizzie questioned, her eyebrows going up in challenge. I winced. Lizzie could be a bit… well, Lizzie. Her personality was so attitude-filled, that she had no problem whatsoever telling someone to mind their own business; something which she seemed about to do. Sensing the oncoming train of verbal rebuke, Jareth spoke to stop it. "Won't you introduce me, Amelia?" and he looked pointedly at me. I stared right back. Was he serious?

"Now's not a good time, Jareth. I'm busy." I hissed at him meaningfully, glancing at my irked sister. In glimpsing her expression, though, I saw a spark of surprise and curiosity, and in the end she looked intrigued as she gazed back and forth between myself and Jareth.

My stomach sank to my shoes.

The damage was done. An inquisition via my sister was imminent. My face darkened a shade in anger and worry. Did he not realize how dangerous this was? "You're right, I'm sorry." I said in a rush, coming to my feet to stand beside the incognito king. "Liz, this is Jareth… King. He's my coworker. Jareth, this is my sister, Elizabeth. She's visiting and only able to stay for a short time." I emphasized the last sentence heavily, hoping he'd get the message. He lifted his eyebrows with interest and turned to face my sister. I feared he would ignore the message, and my fears were confirmed. Because instead of apologizing for intruding and then leaving, he offered her his hand to shake. "A pleasure to meet you."

"You, too." My sister said, a smile lighting upon her surprised face as she took his hand. Jareth turned their hands so hers was on top, and the king swept down to place a kiss on it. I could have smacked him for all the looks we were earning from other patrons-or I would have, except I knew it would get us even more curious onlookers. That, and I really didn't need him angry at me.

Liz gave me a pointed look and a smile hidden behind her free hand. Her expression clearly said, "You're dating Andrew when you have the opportunity to ask THIS guy out?!" I glared at her, shaking my head from side to side in warning. 'She'd better not say anything embarrassing!' I thought.

Clearing my throat, I looked to Jareth as he straightened up and released my sister. "Great, well, I'll see you later at work. Let me walk you out. Be right back, Liz." I said, lacing my hand through his arm and beginning to lead him away. As I did, I tried very hard to ignore the sudden butterflies fluttering in my stomach, how my cheeks felt hot, and how the nosy looks we received had nothing whatsoever to do with my reaction. I berated myself in alarm at my own flustered reaction. 'For goodness sake, get it together, lady!' I mentally shook myself to focus on our destination.

I didn't stop until we'd gotten to the hall entryway for the restrooms, away from unwanted ears. I cast him a brief, pleading glance, showing I was distressed by his sudden arrival. "Please." I whispered. "Just go. I'll be home in an hour or so-"

Jareth shrugged his arm out of my hold and scowled in disapproval at me. "You completely ignored my call."

Frustrated, I cast my eyes around us to gather both my thoughts, and my composure, before meeting his eyes. "That's because I'm with my sister! You should have assumed I was busy!" I hissed, and Jareth's eyes narrowed.

"I _did_ assume that, until you removed my ring." My brow furrowed at this. He continued. "I thought something had happened to you." He moved a step closer to me, and I tensed, taking in a startled breath. Jareth caught himself. He took a measured step carefully back again, giving me some space. His expression hardened even as turbulent emotions fought for supremacy in his eyes. "Do not remove it again. The ring is meant for communication, but it comes with my protection as well. No one can harm you while you wear it."

His words caught my attention, and I stared at him in open apprehension. "Protection? Who would want to hurt me?"

The king fell surprisingly silent and I watched him with alarm. Was there an actual threat to my safety? "Jareth-am I in danger?" My own words reminded me of my sister, and my eyes widened, my face losing its color. "Liz! What about my sister! Is she in danger-?!"

I went to step past Jareth to make sure I could see Liz, when Jareth put himself in my way to stop me, placing his hands firmly on my shoulders. I bumped into his chest and he steadied me, and for an instant, the nausea I'd been feeling since I took the ring off, dissipated. It returned again once he had steadied me, and I followed his chest to his eyes with my own, the whiplash nausea making me feel oddly dizzy. "No, she's not in any danger. Neither are you, but the ring was partly designed to act as a precaution. If someone _were_ to try to harm you, they would not be able to."

My shoulders eased, but a thought came to mind. Did he anticipate someone trying to hurt me? What wasn't he saying? I watched his face shrewdly, trying to discern whether or not he was telling the whole truth. His face turned almost stoic when he realized what I was trying to do.

That was enough of an answer for me.

Something _was_ going on, but he was unwilling to disclose any information. Whatever the possible threat was, he didn't seem to think it was too much of a problem at the moment. I could only hope that he would warn me before it became a real problem. Pursing my lips, I exhaled a breath in a huff and said. "Fine. I will put the ring back on if you will lessen its glow and heat effects. The light draws too much attention and the heat hurts. In exchange, I'll be home in half an hour. Deal?"

Jareth seemed almost surprised when I mentioned the ring's effects, but he gave a slow, thoughtful nod of agreement. "Very well." He said, and with reluctance, gently released my shoulders.

"Good. See you later." And with that said, I pushed past him, my irritation returning. I'd gone all of two steps when I felt eyes on me. The feeling left just before I reached my sister, and I glanced back toward the goblin king before I sat down.

But Jareth was already gone.

My forehead wrinkled slightly, and Lizzie noticed. "So what was all that about?" I was still busy looking at where Jareth and I had been standing before, and I answered her distractedly as I sat down. "We're working on a project together…" I trailed off as a bad feeling hit me, and I glanced around subtly, alarmed. Becoming more cautious of my words, I changed the rest of what I was going to say. "...He's helping me learn self defense techniques for work." Strangely, the feeling lessened, and I breathed a little easier.

Lizzie accepted this. "That's nice of him."

"Yeah." I offered vaguely, the bad feeling coming back. What on earth was going on? I shivered. I'd never felt this way before. It was like being watched, but different. Like the person watching you was listening to every word, as well as watching every tiny move you made-taking note of it and not liking it. With a stiff gesture toward the exit, I asked her. "Are you ready to go?"

Lizzie hummed a yes, taking one last drink of her water. "Ok, now I'm ready." We stood up, and the bad feeling grew stifling, making it hard for me to breath. I glanced at Lizzie to see if she'd been affected by a similar feeling, but she seemed unchanged. I forced a deep breath and straightened up to my full height despite the lack of air.

We needed to get out of here.

Reaching for my purse on the seat, I noticed a man a few booths away looking at me, his expression intense. I felt for a moment like there was something connecting us; like a physical, invisible connection. I had always been sensitive to others, but this was far from my normal in that regard. I felt the connection so powerfully, to the point that I could almost _see_ the difference in the air the 'connection' was passing through, and the untainted air around it. It was like looking at something through a slightly magnified strip of glass.

I glanced at him, noting that his eyes were brown. But for an instant when I began to look away, I thought they looked red. It sent a terrible chill down my spine, and I did a double take. His eyes were brown again, and he turned his gaze away from mine with disinterest, instead peering down at his menu. But he didn't seem to be actually reading it-his eyes were focused on one spot. He acted as though he knew he was being watched, but was pretending not to notice.

I watched him, unsettled. Lizzie didn't seem to realize what the man was doing-or that he was even there-and I didn't draw her attention to him. Better to just leave, and not worry her about it. I'd keep a subtle eye on him until I was sure she was safe.

Jareth's words came unbidden to my mind as we walked away from our table. 'She's not in any danger. Neither are you, but the ring was designed to act as a precaution. If someone _were_ to try to harm you, they would not be able to.'

We went to the cashier to pay, and the feeling of being watched remained. I frowned and patted my pockets, and Lizzie asked me if I'd forgotten something. I said, "I'm not sure." and looked back to our table. Really I was just pretending, giving myself a casual excuse to look back the way we had come. The man was now on his feet and walking toward us, but stopped when I made brief eye contact with him as I was looking to our table. I felt suddenly cold when he stopped where he was, and I continued to look confused and pat my pockets despite my sudden fear. The man pretended to study the modern black and white photograph on the wall beside him, and I shrugged and spoke to my sister. "I guess not. Let's go."

Once outside, I hailed a cab for Lizzie and grabbed my emergency one hundred dollar bill from my purse. Normally we might have shared the cab, but from the bad feeling I got from that man…

I frowned internally. I wasn't going to put her in harm's way.

I found the ring as well in my bag and held it in my free hand a moment, the nausea abating slightly. I glanced back and noticed the man watching us from just inside the restaurant doors, and I slid the ring onto my finger. The feeling of safety settled over me and the nausea vanished. Like a hot knife through half-melted butter, the connection to the bad feeling I'd felt, was severed. Relieved, I breathed easier and my back felt lighter.

Gesturing for the cabby to put his window down as Lizzie was coming over, I stretched my arm out to him and gave him the extra money. When his eyes nearly popped out of his head, I murmured quickly and quietly so only he could hear me. "Some creep is stalking my sister," He frowned severely at this, and I was reassured by it as I continued. "Get her out of here, quick as you can. But be aware that you could be followed. You may have to take a different route. Just keep her safe." I finished, and he nodded.

"You got it, Miss." He replied seriously.

"Thank you." I said, full of gratitude, and I opened the back door for my sister.

She got in, then gave me a perplexed look when I didn't follow. "Aren't you coming?" I shook my head negatively.

"Nah, I think I'll take a walk for a little while before I call a cab. I'll see you later." She nodded, and I closed the door before waving at the cabby, and her. The cab driver started out driving at a normal speed, but when he turned a corner, he sped up considerably.

I began walking up the street in the same direction, and I heard it when the restaurant doors opened and shut. A shiver ran down my back as the feeling of being watched grew stronger. I could tell it was the same man by the feeling, but the ring had lessened the effects of his attention. Ahead of me I saw a bus stop and hurried toward it. Sitting down on a covered bench, I smiled at the elderly woman already sitting on half of it. In the reflection of the poster beside her-which had the task of advertising Oreos-I spotted the man that'd been watching us. He stopped short a few steps from the bench with his eyes on me, then casually walked past me and the old woman to the bus stop sign half a dozen feet away, and leaned against it. He kept his eyes on the road, but I could tell he was half watching us. I looked to the old woman beside me and she smiled warmly at me.

I struggled to offer one in return.

She must not have noticed that I was distressed, for her smile continued as brightly as it had to begin with. "I'm going to see my grandson." She said proudly, startling me. I hadn't expected her to strike up a conversation just like that. But she had, and I responded with a smile that held more sincerity than before. "Oh? That's nice. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you." She beamed at me. "I'm bringing him his favorite: Peach cobbler!" She showed me the inside of the floral bag she was carrying. Inside, a glass container with a glass lid held the peach cobbler she had mentioned. It was held shut with a large sort of elastic.

The dessert looked amazing-and _very_ hot. "I baked it today-it's nearly right out of the oven." She was so adorably proud, that I couldn't help but genuinely smile. "That's always the best." I said half-seriously, and she nodded with the same attitude. "It is." The old woman appraised me suddenly, asking, "So where are you headed?" and I hesitated. My eyes found the man again. He continued his silent subtle vigil of us, looking away now and then to study our surroundings. Was he keeping an eye out besides? If so, for who?

I at last answered. "I just went out to lunch. I'm going to go shopping now." My fib made the man straighten up against the bus stop sign, looking abruptly alert. The woman hummed with a smile. "Shopping on a full stomach is always a good idea." I smiled, amused despite my situation. "Certainly better than on an empty stomach." I agreed, and she laughed a cackling laugh that was pleasant to hear.

The slow screech of brakes interrupted us as the bus slowed to a halt before the bus stop. It was one of the buses that had a door at the front and another halfway down the bus. I couldn't believe my luck. "Ah!" The old woman exclaimed. "Here it is." She stood carefully, balancing the peach cobbler container on one arm and gathering a few shopping bags beside her. "Here, let me help you." I said. Surprised and happily relieved, she handed me her grandson's peach cobbler. "Be careful, dear, it's rather heavy." I murmured an, "Ok." in response and took the container with delicate hands.

She hadn't been kidding-it was heavy like she said, but it was also _really_ hot. Immediately I shifted the cobbler in my arms, realizing it was beginning to hurt. I had a thought and hurried to speak before she entered the bus. "Here, let me go in first and see if I can find us a spot." The woman agreed to this and she followed me onto the bus. I was quick to find two seats near a friendly looking mother and toddler. Setting the cobbler down on the seat nearer the window, I told the mother. "This belongs to the old woman behind me, could you let her know I set it here please?" Brow wrinkling in perplexion, she nodded and I thanked her before hurrying toward the middle of the bus where the second door was still open.

I glanced back at the old woman. She was still working on her journey up the bus steps. It was taking a while because of her shopping bags, and I could see the top of the man's head and his hand holding onto the railing. His fingers tapped it in impatience, waiting for her to reach the top. Allowing myself a small grin, I stepped off the bus through the middle doors and walked casually in the opposite direction the bus would soon be heading. I flagged down a taxi as soon as I saw one, and got inside.

Giving my address, I watched the bus as we passed it. The man had finally reached the top of the stairs, and his eyes flew from one passenger to another. His expression went from indifference to confusion when he realized I wasn't on the bus. His confusion turned to anger when he saw the second door and he hurried to it, moving out of my line of sight behind the wall of the bus. The taxi passed it and turned the corner.

I allowed myself a moment of victory, and grinned like an idiot. The grin fled, however, when I realized there was a faintly fluttering light coming from my ring. 'Oh no!' I thought in panic. What if it contacted Jareth? Worried, I brought my full attention to the magic jewelry. A frantic feeling came off of it, and I winced apologetically. Despite myself, I was beginning to connect with the ring on an emotional level. I was starting to feel concerned for it, and part of me recognized there was danger in this. I couldn't start caring about it now-not while I'd been trying to separate myself from it for extended periods of time. Frowning, I studied the ring's frantic light, and found myself reassuring it.

"I'm fine." I murmured to it. The cab driver cleared his throat, and I went beet red as I realized he was looking at me through the rearview mirror. His brow was furrowed with apprehensive lines. Did he think I was talking to myself? "...You talkin' to me, sweetheart?"

I gave him a half smile. "Sorry, I thought you asked how I was." His brow eased. "No, I didn't say anything."

"Oh-sorry, then." He nodded and focused on the road, waiting for the red light we'd stopped at to change.

So I couldn't talk to the ring like this; I'd have to hurry and figure out how to reassure it before it tattled on me to Jareth. An idea came to mind and I pulled out my phone.. Pretending to dial a number, I raised the cell phone to my ear with my right hand and cast my gaze down to the ring on my left, and spoke to it. "Hey." The ring brightened tentatively as though listening. I paused when out of the corner of my eye, I saw the cab driver glance at me, before he saw I was on the phone and ignored me.

'Good.' I thought. He'd be none the wiser. I focused my attention on the ring again and spoke into the phone. "I'm alright." The ring's faint light fluttered slowly as though unsure. "Really, I'm alright." I said, making my voice firmer. "You don't need to worry, and you don't need to worry Jareth by telling him." At the mention of Jareth, the light fluttered faster and I got a sense of indignation coming off of it. As though it was offended by the thought of NOT keeping Jareth informed.

I was a little irked. "Why worry him when I'm ok? I'm not hurt or anything, so he doesn't need to be told." The fluttering slowed, thinking. It was strange, but I felt almost like I was conversing with a child. Was it because the ring was so new? I could see that being the case; but Jareth's comment about it not having emotions was odd considering how opposite the case seemed to be.

Was it just because the ring and I were connected now? Could it somehow have taken on emotion through me? I was guessing, but in a way it made sense. I just didn't know for sure. Jareth would be the one to ask, but he had acted so strangely about it before, that I had the feeling he would just deny it again-maybe even get angry. I frowned. Maybe he knew the reason and didn't like it; didn't want to tell me.

The ring felt cool, and I focused on it again. It's light had slowed to a near constant glow, fluttering maybe once or twice. Comfort and reassurance came from it, conveying it wouldn't tell Jareth. My shoulders relaxed. "Thank you." I said into the phone, and when the light faded from the ring, I put my phone back into my pocket.

On the way home I thought about all that had happened as I watched the city pass away, and the suburban neighborhoods come into view. Who was that man? Why had he been watching us? Why had he followed me? I gulped as I thought of one question in particular.

How, exactly, was I going to tell Jareth?

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A/N: Dun dun dun… Hope you liked it! ^_^


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Chapter eight! Thank you all for your patience in waiting for this chapter! ^_^

Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth.

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A Writer Required

Chapter Eight

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I wasn't going to tell Jareth.

I decided this as I got out of the cab and thanked the driver. I faced my house with apprehension and listened to the taxi driving away, almost wishing I had gotten back into it. But avoiding Jareth would likely make him angry and suspicious, and from what I'd experienced with him, I knew now he would just show up wherever I was and demand to know why I was avoiding him. I winced at the image of _that_ conversation.

I could say that I was mad at him and wanted space, but after what happened with that stalker, I really didn't want to be anywhere else but home. I would just have to deal with Jareth until he left. Lying to him about this situation was going to be hard. Particularly because I wore my expressions clearly on my face, often without even realizing it.

'Into the fray, then.' I thought, grimacing, and marched up the steps to my door. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself. I had been fine in the beginning of my ride home, but I had started showing signs of stress halfway. I was still shaking a little from the fear-driven adrenaline I'd felt after realizing I had been being followed. At the time I may have felt proud of myself-and I still was, to a degree-but it also hit me that the man following me had very likely meant to do me harm. Based on the negative feelings I received from him, it was more than likely. What that man had intended, I didn't know; but he didn't seem at all happy to have lost me. I glared at my front door. Why was he after me, anyway?

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I focused on the present. For now I'd deal with Jareth, and only afterwards allow myself to think more about the stalker incident. Besides, it wasn't like I would see that man again anyway, right? So for now I'd take my problems one at a time. I'd keep it to myself about what happened, and just write Jareth's story. I took another breath, shook out my arms to ward off the stress, then unlocked the door and stepped inside. My eyes needn't have even scoured the room for him, because it took only a second to find him.

Jareth was pacing the length of the living room floor, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. One finger was tapping a constant rhythm that indicated he was unhappy. He was waiting for me. His appearance had returned to his usual poets shirt, jacket, breeches and boots, and I found myself missing the suit he'd worn. It was kind of a nice change.

As the door opened he slowed in his steps, his back still to me. I shoved the door closed using my foot to be sure it closed fully. I unceremoniously put my keys into my purse and dropped the bag by the door. The sound 'thud' made Jareth turn around, his hands unclasping. There was a hint of concern in his eyes until he saw it was merely my purse that had fallen to the floor. The concern fled, and anger replaced it. He was angry, but there was something else in his eyes I couldn't quite decipher. His eyes were turbulent, definitely, and conflicted. Staying where he was a good six feet away, he waited.

"That wasn't okay." I said, breaking the silence. Jareth's unclasped hands lifted so that he could fold his arms. One elegantly swooped eyebrow rose at me. " _That_ ," He emphasized his words with a calculated step forward. "was your own fault." My face grew hot and I glowered, taking a step closer to him in turn. "You coming to the restaurant was _your_ choice. _I_ didn't ask you to come!"

Jareth's jaw flexed, showing his restraint. He spoke with care. "No. You didn't." He agreed, his voice quiet. Stealing several steps forward as he spoke, his voice sharpened the nearer he came to me. "And it was your lack of response that made me think something had happened to you!"

It was odd for me to notice at this moment, but I realized his hair was slightly darker and shorter. His feathery locks were more chestnut than golden, and closer to the tops of his shoulders. His bangs were only a little longer, but the difference was noticeable. I discovered, too, that his clothing was slightly altered. More modern than his usual. The jacket he wore was more polished and simply cut. His shirt was black silk, but still a poets shirt. Otherwise he was unchanged. I studied these differences thoughtfully. Was he showing me what he really looked like, a bit at a time? That made sense; but it made me wonder if he thought a full change all at once would have been too much for me to take in. Was his true form really all that different?

My silence seemed to make him suspicious, and his eyes turned to slits. "... _Did_ something happen that I am not aware of?" The edge in his voice was not lost on me; but I'd been distracted by his change-so much so, that it took me a moment to catch up.

"What?" I questioned blankly, and at his dark look, my cheeks flushed. I glared once I was caught up. "No, after you left, so did we." I crossed my arms defensively and shrugged. "Can we get back to work now?" I gestured at my laptop where it sat on the couch. "I'll have to leave for work in a few hours."

Jareth stopped me before I could begin toward the couch. "First we must speak about how we are going to communicate that you are 'busy'. I'd prefer to avoid a recurrence of today."

I made a face, thinking, 'No kidding!' for what happened at the restaurant, as well as what had happened after. I focused on the flames of the fire in the fireplace to distract myself from the memory of what had happened afterwards; though mostly it was to keep Jareth from reading my expression. I'd had time to think on the communication problem while in the cab, and I easily answered him now. "I can tap the ring to indicate that we can't meet at that moment." I held up two fingers. "What about twice to say we're okay to meet," I lowered one finger, leaving my index finger up. "and once to say I'm busy. Would that work?"

I could feel Jareth's eyes on me when I moved to the couch while I finished speaking. I reluctantly met his gaze as I sat down, taking note of how his expression was still dark, and now contemplative. Would he question me further about earlier? I was worried-I didn't know if I could lie convincingly enough to keep him from being more suspicious. Jareth kept his gaze fixed on me, moving to his chair and easing into it, his piercing gaze easing as well. "Very well. We left off with the mermaids, I believe." I nodded, checking the notes on my laptop for verification, and then we dove back into his story.

The time Jareth and I spent together was tense. He only spoke to tell me his story, and I only spoke to clarify something or to ask how to spell a name. He talked of the mermaids, dryads, and the naiads that all lived in close quarters to each other. We moved on to when his father grew ill and he'd had to return home, when we were interrupted by my phone. My ringtone for my boss-different from any other of my contacts so I'd know to answer it-sounded and drew my attention to the device. Jareth stopped speaking and I held up a hand to tell him to wait. "Sorry, just a second, it's my boss."

Jareth leaned sideways in his chair, resting his chin in his hand so that his mouth was hidden behind his fingers. He stared at me intently, making me uncomfortable. The look he was giving me made me think he was contemplating my imminent demise.

Or, maybe he was just really annoyed that I'd made him stop talking. Either scenario was a possibility, with his currently foul mood.

I ignored him for now. "Hello?" I asked into the phone, raising one knee to rest my elbow on it and turning myself away from Jareth. I could feel his eyes drilling holes into the back of my head. But whatever my boss had to say, wasn't any of Jareth's business. My boss replied. "Hey Amelia, one of the guys has to leave early today, can you come in to cover for him before your shift?" I looked at the simple analog clock on the wall where it hung by the door. I normally started work at three. It was barely after twelve-thirty. Jareth and I hadn't even worked a full hour.

Speaking of the goblin king, I remembered his foul mood, and chanced a glance over my hand at the currently sulking monarch. Our eyes met, and I looked away in a hurry to avoid his powerful glare. I gulped.

Yep. Still sulking.

"Yeah, I can come in. Do you want me to come in now?" I questioned. "Yes, that'd be great!" The relief in my boss's voice was evident, making my eyebrows rise high. Had something happened? My brow wrinkled thoughtfully. "...Okay, I have to get ready. I'll be over in about fifteen minutes."

"Great! Thank you, Amelia!" He said, and I smiled. "No problem. See you soon." Saying our goodbyes, I hung up. Jareth's chair creaked in its telltale way when he crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in his seat.

"I have to go to work early. One of my coworkers has to be somewhere else." I put away my phone in my pocket and saved the document on my laptop with a flick of a couple keys, then closed the program. "I'm sorry, but we'll have to cut our time short. Maybe you can come a little earlier on Wednesday?" I suggested, standing and putting the laptop back on the couch. The entire time I avoided meeting his gaze.

"And you listen to your boss?" He queried.

This remark pulled my attention to him in incredulity. Was he serious? "Well, he _does_ pay my bills, Jareth. So yes, I listen to him." Jareth's forehead wrinkled and his lip curled, but he didn't reply. I raised my eyebrows at him, straightening up from leaning over my laptop. Indignant, I put my fists on my hips. "Unless of course you plan to start providing money for my food and home?" Jareth went red in the face, and I paused to apply a thoughtful expression, tapping my chin with my finger and gazing with a furrowed brow at the ceiling. I puckered my lips slightly to add to the thoughtful look.

"Although I don't know how well goblin currency will carry in America..." I quipped, trailing off. His red-faced, sulky look lightened to allow surprise, and at last a small amount of grudging humor to it. "I see." He said slowly, coming to his feet. "Then I suppose an earlier meeting will have to do." I inclined my head a bit, really actually grateful he hadn't thrown a tantrum.

"Great. Let's get going, then." And with that said, we left.

The next morning I woke to my late morning alarm going off, telling me it was nine o'clock. I'd slept in. Rubbing my face, I hissed in pain and felt around my left eye tenderly. "Crap, I forgot about that." I muttered. I went to my vanity mirror to assess the damage, and groaned. I had a massive black eye. It was worse than last night.

Last night I'd had to break up a fight between two of my clients. Where I worked, we took care of men with disabilities, teaching them life skills so they could one day be independent. I'd taken off the ring while in my car and put it in my pocket in an attempt to help wean myself of it. The nausea had been unpleasant, but not overwhelming so. A short time later one of my clients had accidentally elbowed me in the face as he'd reached his arm back, winding up, to punch another client in the face. I'd stepped forward to separate them, only to receive his elbow in my eye.

My shout of pain and call of, "ASSIST!" had alerted my nearby coworkers. The day's lead, Marcus, as well as Brian and Richard came running, assessing the situation briefly as they ran. Richard and Brian restrained the clients fighting while Marcus hurried over to me. Putting an arm around in front of me and turning me away, he hurriedly led me to one of the side rooms, out of danger and out of sight of the clients fighting.

After the fight was stopped, Marcus and Brian took care of me. One retrieved an ice pack and the other a bottle of ibuprofen. I insisted I was fine, though I was holding back tears. Marcus frowned and insisted I take a break, and after hesitating, I finally relented. I cried a little, there in the side room, and Marcus kept his arms around me as he patted my back to offer comfort. "That was really stupid, you know." He gave a small, half-hearted chuckle at the end, until I raised my head to glare at him.

Marcus grimaced when he saw my black eye. "Damn, that looks bad! Er-sorry…" He hurried to say sheepishly when I looked away, wiping my face furiously. I couldn't be crying-not here. My clients would think they could walk all over me if they saw me in tears. I frowned. I had to be tough. "It was pretty brave, though, too." He admitted sincerely, smiling a bit before his frown returned. "But seriously, don't ever jump in like that again. Call for me or one of the other guys, or call 'assist' like you did."

He jerked his head toward the doors. "You did pretty well just then, and that was good thinking on your part for calling for assistance. But next time don't get involved. You'll get yourself killed." He rushed to add when I began to protest. "I know you've had training-I know you're strong-but it doesn't matter. You're still half the size of most of the guys here."

He paused to be sure I understood, going as far as to duck his head to one side to see my eyes. "OKAY?" He asked. I grudgingly nodded, the tears gone from my face now and I sniffed. He released me carefully, seeming uncertain of whether or not I was being honest about how I was feeling, and he left one arm around my shoulders. "Good. Now clean yourself up and get your ass back out there!" He grinned to show he was half joking and I laughed, smiling, "Yes sir!" and pretended to salute.

After I'd made sure my face was clean and my eyes less red, he made me sit on a couch with the ice pack on my eye; to wait until the situation outside was fully settled. Only then did he allow me to go back out there, and even then he kept close to gauge the moods and reactions of the clients, staying half in front of me. The client who'd hit me saw me, and hurried over.

At once Marcus tensed and stepped fully in front of me. The man raised his hands in surrender and explained. "All I wanted to say was that I'm sorry." That remark made Marcus glance back at me, and when I saw that our client was sincere, I nodded. Marcus moved carefully aside, and the client stayed where he was. "I am so so sorry, Amelia!" He apologized profusely, truly concerned for me, and regret for his actions shone clearly in his eyes. I smiled slightly to reassure him. "It was an accident. I appreciate your apology. Maybe we should try to figure out solutions for the next time you disagree with someone, so you don't get so upset, ok?" Relieved I wasn't angry, he agreed, and we sat down at a table to work together to come up with solutions to help him keep calm in stressful situations. I put the ring on after we talked and he went to watch tv. The nausea promptly abated and the ring seemed confused initially and increasingly concerned as it took in my state of being. Luckily I was away from others enough, that I could rest my chin on my hand and my elbow on the table top, to murmur to the ring. "I'm fine, it was an accident. I'll explain it to Jareth later." The ring's response was hesitant, almost frustrated, but it eventually calmed and turned silent, the calm reassurance returning stronger than before.

Marcus checked on me regularly, and I was grateful for that. He was like a big brother, always having my back and at times teasing me. He'd told me as much one day that I was like a little sister to him, and if I ever needed anything or wanted to talk, that he'd be there. It'd really touched my heart, knowing I'd have someone to talk to if work got to be too much.

I smiled at the memories, and winced when the action made my black eye twinge painfully. I studied the bruise in the mirror. I wasn't excited for Andrew to see it. We had a breakfast date this morning-in fact, he'd be here any minute. I worked swiftly to apply a liberal amount of makeup, in the hopes it would hide the nasty bruise, but it wasn't quite enough. One side of my nose had started showing color, too, and I covered it with makeup. I turned my head left and right, watching the bruise. It wasn't noticeable unless someone was close to me, and the majority of the swelling had gone down after I'd iced it.

Before I could do more, there was a knock at the door. Muttering about punctual boyfriends-though there was a timid smile on my face at the thought of seeing him again, but I worried about his reaction-I put on my slippers and hurried to the door, grabbing a blanket from the couch to wrap around my shoulders. I was still only wearing a tank top and shorts, my thick blankets enough to keep me warm at night. I grinned as I opened the door. "I'm not yet ready, Andrew-" I began, only to stop.

It wasn't Andrew at my door. It was Jack. His eyes grew wide at my next to naked appearance, and his gaze fell down to take all of me in. I "Ahem!"'d and scowled at him, going red in the face. I turned my blanket from a cape to an oversized bib in half a second and held it over myself. "Jack." My firm voice brought his eyes back to mine, and his cheeks darkened. "I-I'm sorry!" The middle aged man sputtered. But then he stopped, and leaned at me with lowered brows. "What's wrong with-?" He stopped short and his eyes widened. "Do you have a _black eye?"_ It wasn't so much a question as it was a demand.

"Can I help you?" Andrew's sharp voice reached past Jack to me before I could respond, and relief eased my tensed shoulders. He'd saved me from a very awkward conversation. At least, that's what I thought. Jack's face went plum colored for an entirely different reason than before, and he jerked around to glower-up-at Andrew. Jack took half a step back, and I could feel his previous fury crumble just a little. Andrew was almost a foot taller than Jack; which the man only now seemed to realize. He surprised me, though, by speaking to Andrew. "Yes. You can tell me why she has a black eye!"

"Jack, really, it's fine! It was an accident-!" I began in exasperation. He cut me off with an angry snap to his voice, half turning his head to scowl at me. "Is that what he told you to say?" I huffed, annoyed. " _No_ , I meant-" But Andrew silenced me this time when he shoved past Jack. "A black eye?!" He stopped short when he saw my face, his hands still wrapped around Jack's upper arms when he'd moved the other man out of his way. Jack sputtered in anger but stopped when he saw Andrew's face. "Amelia…" He breathed, wide eyed. "How did this happen?" His eyes abruptly narrowed. "Who did this to you?"

My ring was starting to feel warm, a wary protectiveness radiating from it that had me concerned. It seemed to be questioning whether or not it should alert Jareth. My face went red in panic because of this, and Andrew's eyes narrowed further, misinterpreting my blush. "You can tell me, Amelia. I'll set it right." His promise made the ring even warmer, and I curled my hand into a fist. It seemed pretty concerned now. Would it call Jareth? Panic hit me. For him to just show up here, now, would be a disaster! I knew that regardless of whether or not the ring would call Jareth, I couldn't let this ridiculous fighting continue.

Andrew seemed to realize the man next to him might somehow know something, and he whirled round on Jack. "Do you know who did this? Out with it!" He added with a shake to the older man's shoulders when Jack didn't immediately answer. They started arguing again, Jack denying to have anything to do with it, and accusing Andrew of lying. They grew heated in a hurry and I had had enough.

"STOP!" I shouted at them, and both men froze. "For heaven's sake!" I said quieter, exhausted by the ridiculous testosterone battle before me. I rubbed my forehead and took a deep breath, letting it out again. "One of the guys at work-" Andrew's face darkened and I flinched when the ring almost grew hot. I folded my arm so my ring was pressed under my opposite elbow. What was wrong with this thing? I thought in frustration. "One of your coworkers did that?" The dark look on his face resonated into his voice. Jack opened his mouth to add something else, but I cut him off.

"No! Enough, I said!" I snapped firmly in an attempt to silence their bickering. "If _either_ of you had let me finish speaking, you would know that it was an accident at work!" Surprise colored their expressions and I pressed on quickly. "Two of my clients were fighting and when I tried to step in to stop them, one of them accidentally elbowed me in the face!" I shifted my folded arm under my blanket, away from my other arm when the ring began to cool, and I scowled at them. "Now will you two please stop fighting? You're grown men, for goodness sake!" I reprimanded. Both Andrew's and Jack's shoulders sank, ashamed-though Andrew still looked angry when he released Jack.

"That's really all that happened?" Andrew asked me, his voice quieter. I nodded. "Yes." His eyes studied mine as though to be sure, then his shoulders relaxed fully and he took a breath. "Ok. How are you feeling? Do you still want to go out?" I hesitated. After the fight that had just happened before me, I thought about climbing back into bed. But I needed to reassure Andrew that I was fine, and going out with him would put his worries to rest. "Yes, I'm fine." I waved him forward. "Come in and wait in the living room while I finish getting ready."

Andrew made to step forward when Jack stepped in the way to glare at him. "You might not have hurt her, but know that I've got my eye on you. If you _ever_ hurt her, I'll-" I interrupted my neighbor in checked aggravation. "-Yes. Thanks, Jack. I can handle things now. Have a good day." And with that said, Andrew slipped past Jack into my house, putting one arm around my waist and leading me gently back from the door. Out of Jack's line of sight, he kissed my forehead lightly, then turned to the door. Jack had spun round to face Andrew, who spoke. "As Amelia said. Good bye." Jack hesitated until I smiled thinly at him in reassurance. His anger melted, and he cast Andrew a grudging glower. "You too, Amelia." My neighbor reluctantly turned and walked down the stairs.

I realized then that Jack never explained why he'd come over in the first place. I was thinking of asking him, when Andrew promptly shut the door. "Nosey old man." My boyfriend growled. I frowned at him. "Nosey or not, he was just showing concern." Andrew's head snapped round to stare at me, disbelief entering his eyes as he faced me fully. "He was accusing me of abusing you, Amelia! You can't tell me that didn't upset you!"

"Of course it upset me!" I explained. "Knowing it wasn't true just made the accusation absurd. He didn't know the circumstances behind the injury and jumped to conclusions-" I leveled a look at him pointedly. "-just as you did when you saw it." Andrew went red in the face, averting his gaze to glare at the fireplace. He folded his arms, and I took that as admission. Shifting my blanket to my left hand, I reached out my right hand to him to rest it on his cheek until his eyes met mine. "You both had my best interests at heart. Don't be too upset with him because of that."

Andrew's gaze softened, and he sighed when he placed his hand over mine, moving it down to his lips to kiss my palm. "Alright. I'll give him the benefit of the doubt-this time." He added, kissing my hand again firmly. "I can't say that next time I will offer him that same courtesy." The warning was clear in his voice, and I nodded in understanding. "Ok."

Releasing my hand when I began to pull it away, Andrew folded his arms, and I turned toward the kitchen. "You can sit on the couch while I get ready. I'll be just a minute." Andrew agreed to this and moved to the couch while I retreated to my room to change.

Breakfast was pleasant after we'd settled everything about my black eye, and I had explained to Andrew in detail all that had happened. "I'm glad your coworkers were there to have your back." Relief on his face, Andrew took up my right hand in his and pressed a kiss to the knuckles. "I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to you." His voice quieted, his brow wrinkled with worried lines. Breakfast continued uneventfully, though Andrew seemed at times as though he were far away, his mind thinking of something else. When I noticed his distant look for the fifth time towards the end of our meal, I finally asked him what was wrong. "Is something wrong? You seem kind of distracted this morning..." I trailed off when Andrew's gaze snapped up from his breakfast to meet mine, his eyes returning to the present.

His cheeks grew slightly pinker in embarrassment at being caught, and he explained himself. "Sorry, I've just been thinking about work. My boss has been pushing me towards an opportunity, and I'm not sure I'm ready for it yet." Although he appeared honest in his words, the way he said it made me think he wasn't telling me everything. The rest of our breakfast was partially riddled with thoughtful silences, and Andrew dropped me off at my house with a distracted kiss. I felt weird after the kiss, like his heart wasn't really in it. What was wrong with him? He'd seemed suddenly distant.

Wednesday arrived, and I worried as I got ready for Jareth's early arrival. I didn't bother covering the bruise up with makeup. I knew hiding it would just make him angry, and I'd rather be honest about it-I was already hiding the stalker incident from him-I didn't want to add more lies to the short, nearly growing list. I pressed my lips thinly together when I opened the door at nine am, and crouched down to pick up the newspaper. I felt it as Jareth arrived in his owl form, gliding invisibly above me. He must have noticed something was off, for his flight faltered just before me, and then he quickened past me into the living room. I felt his turbulent, shocked emotion as he passed. I stayed there a moment longer as he transformed, his magic hovering like a mist behind me. It was when I felt his eyes on me, that I stood up with the newspaper in hand. I would just have to come out quickly and say it and have it over with. Tell him like I was ripping off a bandaid. I sucked in a shaky breath and shut the door and locked it, then faced him.

Jareth's brow was already furrowed as though he couldn't quite believe what he'd seen as he'd arrived. His expression darkened dreadfully when our eyes met, and I looked away from his face. I flinched when he approached and took a step backwards, waiting for his certain reproval. His steps halted, then continued at a slower, oddly reassuring pace, as he stepped nearer to me. My tense posture relaxed a margin in seeing this. "What happened to your eye?" His voice was quiet, probably sensing from my body language how worried I was about his response.

"I was accidentally hit at work. Two of my clients were fighting, and when I stepped in to stop them, one elbowed me in the eye on accident." I quickly added as I felt the air between us become treacherous with his anger-though it didn't seem to be aimed at me. Would he take out his anger on my client? That made my worry increase, and I quickly added. "He apologized afterwards, and I worked with him to help him manage his anger in the future. He promised me he would be better, and I believe him."

The anger between us diffused and Jareth came a little closer as he spoke. "Your ring should have protected you from receiving any harm." I could feel his bewildered question of 'Why hadn't it?' left unsaid in the air between us, and he put the reason together without me having to explain. Jareth bridged the gap between us in seconds. "Why weren't you wearing your ring?" He reached up to my face before I could think to step away. His hand rested on my cheek, his thumb lightly tracing the outline of my black eye. His touch was cool; surprisingly soothing in its gentleness. His delicate, careful touch made me freeze, alarmed and dumbstruck by it. What was even happening right now?

I snapped out of my stupor while Jareth was still examining my injury. I didn't dare move away-a big part of me was worried that he might accidentally poke it with his thumb if I did. I answered his question instead. "I didn't want to be constantly wearing it because of where I work." I shrugged one shoulder and he moved closer still, frowning at me. His breath breezed over my face and my stomach did a flip. I went hurriedly on to explain, stuttering. "It-It can be dangerous there, and the ring could get broken." Jareth's frown turned severe. "The ring's built to withstand a great deal. _You_ , however," His voice became gentler. "Are not." I cast my gaze away from his, my lips pressed thin together. 'So, what, he thinks I'm weak, then?' I thought.

Jareth pulled me from my thoughts as he murmured under his breath. The skin around my eye tingled where his thumb had touched it and when the tingling faded away, I sucked in a breath when I realized what had just happened.

He'd used magic on me!

My cheeks reddened in anger. How dare he! The ring's constant attention was bad enough-but now this? I could feel without touching it that the swelling had gone down. Did he fully heal my eye? What would people say when they saw how quickly my bruise had healed? There were sure to be a whole slew of awkward questions launched my way when they noticed-and they _would_ notice. My thoughts must've shown clear enough on my face for him to interpret, for he put my concerns to rest.

"The spell I just used will quicken the healing process and lessen the pain. It will heal faster now, cutting the time it would normally have taken in half. In that way, no one will question how your bruise healed so quickly." My mouth opened, but no words came out. He'd practically read my thoughts-just from looking at my face! I was too surprised by his thoughtful action to form the words to express myself. Jareth smiled faintly at my expression, looking a bit satisfied with himself. His eyes fell to my lips as he reached up to softly take my chin between his thumb and the side of his forefinger. I turned pink, frozen in place as my stomach flipped again. His gaze darkened briefly before they cleared and his eyes flicked back up to meet mine-and he tipped my chin up to close my mouth. I went pinker in embarrassment. 'Jeeze! For a minute there I thought he was going to-' Jareth's words cut of my thought. "I knew you would protest if I informed you of my intentions." He pulled his hand away with care and I ducked my head a margin, looking up at him in sudden discomfort. "An indirect assist seemed the best option."

I hated to admit it, but he was right. I would have protested the action quite firmly. I took in and released a breath, causing his long hair to flutter slightly when I did, and I abruptly held my breath. He was close. ' _Too_ close.' I thought, and then spoke aloud. "Thank you." I said it sincerely, and his eyes widened slightly as though he hadn't expected that response. The truth was: Even though he had used magic on me, he had also thought of everything and made it so the healing process would be unnoticeable to others. I didn't want to believe it, but in that moment I realized that maybe-just maybe-he might actually care enough about my well being, to make things easier on me.

My head began to hurt at that thought. I winced.

Or, maybe I was reading too much into this, and maybe the magic's effects were messing with my perception of the moment. I put my hand to my left temple where the headache was forming and rubbed it lightly, missing it when Jareth's eyes followed the action. Either way, the situation at that time was too much to take in, and I turned my attention away from it. "Now we've settled that, maybe we should get back to work." Jareth was strangely silent, and he studied my face a second longer before he at last nodded, and retreated to his chair to begin our work for the day. I went to the couch, aware of his gaze on me, and settled into the couch. I really hoped his using magic on me wasn't going to become a thing. As much as I loved the idea of magic, I didn't fancy him using it on me. I heaved an internal sigh and opened my laptop. 'Back to work.' I thought, and we continued where we left off.

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A/N: So what do you guys think? I offered this to readers on a couple Labyrinth Facebook pages, but I'm going to offer it here, too. I was thinking it'd be cool to have some artwork for this story, and wondered if anyone would like to do some! Maybe a sketch of their favorite scene in the story. Then I'd add it to the chapter the scene is from in wattpad! It can be any scene you want. Anyway, thanks for reading, and if you want to sketch something, double thanks! ^_^


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I really like this chapter. ^_^ Thanks for your patience, I appreciate it!

Disclaimer: I reeeeeally don't own Labyrinth. M'kay?

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A Writer Required

Chapter 9

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Sleeping my phone, I stretched tiredly in my bed and yawned, wincing at my aching muscles. My recent bout of flu had incapacitated me to the point that the majority of my time was being used in sleeping, or practically inhaling chicken noodle soup. 'Thank you, Campbells!' I'd thought gratefully, on more than one occasion.

I thought back about how calm the week had been. A whole week had gone by prior to tonight, and nothing more than the usual had happened. I'd gone to work, praying no one would notice the difference of how much better my eye was. Marcus made a mild comment on it, saying it looked a bit better, and I was relieved it wasn't too drastic a difference. My dates with Andrew had been better lately. He was more attentive and cheerful and I was happy to see it. Though every once in awhile I'd catch him with a distant look on his face. When I'd asked him if he was alright, he vaguely mentioned something about a possible promotion and how he wasn't sure if he should take it. We discussed the pros and cons of it, but he still seemed unsure. I didn't press him-but I did encourage him to do what he thought was best. My days with Jareth were productive and we were able to document a great we were beginning to talk about other things, too, which distracted us from our work. I'd ask him about his experiences and he'd go further into depth about them. His face would often light up as he recalled his past, and I was mesmerized. In the back of my mind I knew I should have been more focused on finishing our project, but so long as we made progress, I didn't mind the occasional distraction.

Today I did nothing but rest and sleep in bed until about dinner time. After I ate more of the miraculous Campbell's soup, I read one of my books and did some writing I needed to catch up on. It was late into the night by the time I decided I'd better sleep. With a quiet sigh I sank further under my down blanket and closed my eyes. The fever had fallen a bit, but it was still very much present. The dreamy feeling of dozing off began to fall over me.

 _Creak…_

My eyes flew open, and I looked to my bedroom door. Was that...?

 _CreeeEEAak…_

Fear lanced through me.

It was.

It was the loose floorboard underneath the laminate flooring in the kitchen doorway. That spot was the only part of the kitchen floor that made that particular sound. After that sound came, another was supposed to come. It did. The loose floorboard lowering again when pressure was taken from off the end of it sounded.

 _Creeaaak…_

Which meant-

 _Creeeaaaaak…_

-that someone was in my house.

Fear and adrenaline pulsed through me, and as quickly as I could manage in my sickly state-which was more sluggish than anything-I kicked off the covers and rolled off the bed into a crouch. My muscles complained in the form of pain and I winced, almost falling onto my backside from my momentum.

Reaching into the dark, I snatched up the baseball bat leaning against the wall between my bed and the night stand. I'd kept it with me ever since I'd started living alone. I know how to use guns, but I don't like them. There's too much room for error. My dad had been pretty firm about me and my sisters learning self defense. That included different methods of protecting ourselves, whether it be guns or physical self defense. A baseball bat was pretty self explanatory, and I didn't have to hurry to get it out of a safe or load it.

The floor creaked behind my bedroom door, a slow, hesitant sound. Still down in a crouch, I stepped back until I was in front of my dresser, my back pressed against its front. The dresser stood beside the door, and with where I was crouched, I'd be out of sight. I hefted the baseball bat slowly over my right shoulder and waited. Thinking it through, I thought about my plan. First I'd aim for the kneecaps. Using the bat's own force to my advantage as it'd rebound, I'd turn the bat up and hit him in the face as he fell forward. He'd clap his hands over his face, unable to see me, and that'd be enough for me to knock him over and get past him, and out of the house.

I came back to the present as the door opened, and my fingers tightened around my weapon. The burglar walked cautiously inside, one step at a time, and something sharp and gleaming in his far hand made my blood run cold. He was holding a freaking _knife!_ The intruder stopped short when he saw my bed, and he peered at the covers. Realizing something was off, he put the knife away into a scabbard on his hip, and moved further into the room.

'Now!' I thought, and swinging the bat as hard as I could, I turned my body at the same time into the swing to add to the bat's already considerable strength. The bat hit his knees with a sound 'THWACK!', and he inhaled sharply as he fell forward against the edge of the bed with a bit-off yell. I swung the baseball bat up to hit my second target, but had misjudged the speed with which he was falling, and when I raised the bat to hit his face, I instead hit him in the gut when he fell onto the edge of the bed.

Still a good hit, but now he was on his knees, he would able to see me. The burglar looked over at me and my face paled as I momentarily froze. "You!" I gasped. It was the man from the restaurant where Lizzie and I'd gone-the one that had given me such a bad feeling and stalked me onto the bus! I felt my body go cold in fear and my eyes grew huge. How did he find me?!

With a growl he lunged at me, breaking me from my thoughts when he grabbed hold of my shirt at the neck. He began to pull me forward and I lurched away with a yell. My shirt tore along the front of my shoulder, the back of the collar painfully yanking against my skin before the fabric gave way. Part of my chest now visible, and his eyes fell down. I used his distraction to my advantage. Still pulling away, I retracted the bat with me and jabbed it forward again at his face.

I barely managed to hit him, but the crack his nose made was satisfying. He yowled in pain and released me. Clearly realizing he had made a mistake in breaking into my home, the man scrambled with difficulty to his feet. I raised the bat again, and in seeing the object of his pain, he made a run for the door. He shoved it fully open, making it slam against the bedside table and tip the lamp against the wall. The ring wobbled beside it, and the door rebounded after him while he hobbled faster than I thought possible, and disappeared back into the kitchen. I leaned over to peer out the door to watch him. He gained speed at the archway to the living room, until he was almost running. Then, he was out the opened front door. I waited to see if he would come back, but there was only me, and an empty, tense silence. Standing, I made my way to the front door and noticed something.

The doorknob was broken.

"Crap!" I said when I saw it. Just what I needed on top of everything else tonight-a broken door. I rested the baseball bat on one shoulder in case I needed to use it again and extended my other hand out toward the door. The burglar had done a number on the handle. I realized he must have used his knife on the doorknob when I saw how the wood was chipped off above it. The handle was bent out of place, leaving a considerable gap in the wood that would show the outside if the door was closed.

My eyes trailed up when I remembered the lock, wondering why it hadn't worked to keep the door shut. Then I noticed how the wood higher up was chipped, too. The deadbolt attached to the door had fared better than that, somehow unlocked and undamaged, and I noticed the wood was also chipped near it. "I can't stay here, now." I murmured, and shivered at the frigid breeze coming through the broken door.

I thought about going to my parent's house, but I didn't want to wake them and worry them over this. Especially since nothing was taken-and I was fine except for my flu. Well, that, and I may also be in shock. I rolled my shoulders, a cold breeze sweeping across my skin and reminding me of my torn shirt and sore neck. Ok, so my neck was sore and my shirt was torn. I could've fared far worse than I did, though.

Taking a step forward, I narrowed my eyes out at the darkness. It was quiet again, silent snow drifting peacefully down and accenting a dim backdrop. Everything was in shades of dark and light blues and white; the pearlescent moon above illuminating icicles and sidewalks.

On the doorstep were footprints in the snow. They had been distorted from when the burglar had backtracked, and it was difficult to make them out. But at that moment I remembered how unsafe I currently was, even armed. I had to leave.

I threw on my coat and boots, and tossed my fleece blanket over my arm to use in the car for added warmth. Any form of comfort at this point was more than welcome. Plus, being warm was generally healthy in a post-snowstorm, post-traumatic setting. I grabbed my phone and laptop along with their chargers, and dropped them in my purse.

I moved faster. Boots on and car keys in hand, I closed the door as best I could. I'd wrapped a scarf around the doorknob on the inside to keep the cold out, and luckily it wasn't obvious on the outside of the house that anything was amiss.

I briefly eyed the footprints, but was disappointed when I remembered they'd been stepped on again as the burglar left. The sole of the shoe was rows of zigzags, though. So probably just a common mens shoe. I didn't spare them much more attention than that, only going as far as to note that the shoe prints came from, and went back up, the street.

Getting in my car, I drove for ten minutes, telling Siri as I left to call Andrew. When he didn't answer, my stomach sank. Was he asleep? "What am I saying-of course he's asleep!" I muttered to myself. My vision blurred slightly, and thinking I was sleepy, I turned the heat down to just below what was comfortable, hoping the colder air would keep me awake. I tried getting in touch with Andrew again when I was almost five minutes away from his apartment, and apparently the second time was the charm. His sleepy voice answered in bewilderment.

"Amelia-what's wrong?" He questioned. My hand was shaking and I pressed the speaker button, putting the phone down on the dash. I realized I had been shaking after the ordeal, but it wasn't until now that I really noticed it. My neck felt hot and I switched the heat nearly all the way to cold, allowing almost frigid air in. The cold air felt nice and I breathed a margin easier.

"I'm on my way over." I spoke rapidly, tapping the steering wheel impatiently when the light turned red ahead of me. It was one of the worst lights in town-ill timed and favoring one street over the other. For now I focused my attention on answering Andrew. "Someone broke into my house. They opened the lock, and the doorknob is practically falling off. Nothing was stolen and I'm fine-" I was cut off by the sound of Andrew's bed springs creaking violently, and the faint thud of his feet hitting the ground.

 _"What?"_

The light turned green and Andrew spoke on. "Are you ok? Did he hurt you? Where are you now?"

My heart warmed a little in comfort at his words, but I shook myself to focus on driving. The light wouldn't stay long in my favor. "No, I'm not hurt. Definitely shaken up, though. I'm just a few blocks away. Can I spend the night with you? After what happened, there's no way I can go back until my door's fixed."

Andrew was quick to agree. "Of course! I'll meet you out front."

Relieved, I replied. "Thank you. I'll be there in a couple of minutes." As it turned out, I was there a bit sooner. I hit every green light-these lights being more aware of traffic-and since I was one of the few out driving, it was practically a straight shot to Andrew's.

Andrew's apartment building was nice, only a few years old, built up in a busier part of the city. There used to be an office building there, before it was purchased and demolished, apartments built in its place. I parked on the street in a reserved spot where the staircase to his apartment was. Most of the tenants were out of town for the approaching holidays, so it left me plenty of places to park. I spotted my boyfriend standing in pajama shorts, a coat, and boots outside on the sidewalk. I hurried over, and he enveloped me in a hug.

"I'm so glad you're safe!" He breathed in relief, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. Some of the stress from tonight fled, and I relaxed enough that the shock began to affect my eyes, and tears began to form.

I sniffled and wiped my eyes, and when I tried to hide them, Andrew noticed. "Let's get you inside." He suggested, and I nodded mutely.

His apartment was on the third floor, overlooking the street where I'd parked my car. Andrew helped me to sit on the couch, and we sat there a while, his arms wrapped around me. My face felt hot again, like it was burning, and I realized I had grown too warm. I told Andrew that I needed to take my coat off, and when I did, he gasped in horror at the rip in my shirt. The upper part of the left side of my chest was visible to him. I noticed four small red raised lines like scratches along my neck onto my collarbone. I hadn't noticed them before-were they from that man when he'd ripped my shirt?

I went red in the face, tugging the fabric together and avoiding Andrew's suddenly furious gaze. His eyes were fixed on the scratches on my neck, his face flushed with anger. "The burglar tried to grab me, and he ripped my shirt. It doesn't hurt, I'm not in pain." I attempted a nonchalant tone and shrugged, still holding up the fabric. I wasn't really hurt, there was no point in making a big fuss about it.

 _"'It doesn't hurt'?"_ He echoed in disbelief, his face redder than I'd ever seen it. In fact-it came to mind that I'd never seen him this angry before. I shrugged my opposite shoulder, feeling uncomfortable under his heavy scowl.

"I'll get a different shirt at my house tomorrow." I said.

Andrew snapped, his eyes refocusing on mine. "The hell you will!" His words raised my gaze to his in wide-eyed surprise. He'd never sworn before, either. I opened my mouth to question him, but he stood carefully up before I could utter a sound. "You can use one of my shirts tonight. Tomorrow _I'll_ go and look things over. You're not going anywhere near there until I and the police have checked it out and I'm satisfied that you'll be safe." His tone left no room for argument, and over the course of his words, my jaw had dropped. I forced myself to shut it when I realized what my expression must have looked like.

pCompletely stunned, probably.

"Uh… ok." I agreed, and Andrew's tensed expression relaxed. "I'll be right back." He reassured me. My boyfriend vanished into the hallway, and I stared after him. Andrew was rarely firm like that, so he must have been really very worried about me. My thoughts were put on hold when he returned a moment later with a large ACDC shirt. He gave it to me and stepped out of the room to allow me privacy to put it on. Once it was on I gave a short burst of a laugh in amusement when the shirt nearly drowned me.

Andrew heard my laugh and asked if I was decent. I said I was, and once he came around the corner to see me, humor touched his own eyes. "It's rather big." He admitted.

"Just a bit." I smiled. "It's perfect, Andrew, thank you." Andrew nodded and shrugged off his coat, putting it on a hook on the wall by the door. He returned to the couch beside me and threw an arm around my shoulders casually. "Anything for my flower." In contrast to his casual motion, his smile was soft and he lay a tender kiss on my lips.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, but I shook my head no. Wrapping his arms around me fully, he held me close. "Ok. I can get you something if you change your mind." I nodded in silence, grateful for his thoughtfulness.

Eventually the adrenaline that had powered me through this ordeal faded, and I was overcome with exhaustion. As I was beginning to doze, Andrew frowned and pressed his cheek to my forehead. I sucked in a startled breath at how cold his skin was, and I looked up at him in question. The frown on his face resounded in his voice. "You have a fever!"

I made a face and turned it into his shoulder, his cool shirt soothing against my feverish face. I didn't want to think about fevers. I wanted to snuggle with my boyfriend and go to sleep. I found myself sleepily speaking. "...All of the stress must have weakened my immune system…" I murmured to him, feeling a little bit like a medical dictionary. "Maybe it will help if you drink some water?" Andrew suggested gently, and I nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that's a good idea." Carefully he left me to get a bottled water from the kitchen. I sipped it slowly and he fetched two more and placed them on the coffee table within reach just in case.

I fell asleep in Andrew's arms. I didn't wake up until late the next morning when it was easily past eleven o'clock. We were laid out on the couch, me tucked under Andrew's arms. A blanket had been thrown over the both of us and I recognized it as the one that usually occupied the back of the couch. Andrew was awake, but he was on his phone while he waited for me to wake. "I slept in-" I began apologetically, but Andrew shook his head.

"It's fine. I'd rather you slept as much as possible." He lowered his phone down to where I could see it, and switched from candy crush to a web browser app. I winced at the bright light. "See?" With a flick of his finger across the screen he showed me a web page that talked about home remedies for fevers. "It's good to get a lot of sleep. I'll have to go to the store to buy some ibuprofen, though. We can put a cool rag on your head to help reduce the fever in the meantime. Do you think you'll be alright if I run to the store?" Andrew questioned, tilting his head to one side to see my face.

"Yeah, I'll be alright." I replied, and Andrew nodded and carefully got up. He put a cool rag on my forehead, tucked the couch blanket around me, and kissed my cheek tenderly before leaving the apartment.

Within five minutes my fever grew worse-even with the rag. The fever had been bad before, but now it had me worried. It should have faded some by now, right? Instead it was getting worse, and that made me worry. It should've died down over time, but this one hadn't-and that was not a good sign. It wasn't until my head began to burn and ache with a familiar headache, that I knew I was in real trouble. I groaned in dismay, burying my face in Andrew's extra pillow. "Really?" I demanded of the inanimate cushion, my voice muffled to my own ears. The pillow remained silent, and I sighed. A lot of help _it_ was.

I'd have to call the doctor. That it'd started with a fever and not the headache was odd, so I'd have to let her know that. Normally this type of thing wouldn't be so bad for most people-but because of how my body was, it made this particular problem dangerous if left unchecked. At this point I couldn't do anything without a doctor's help. Grumbling under my breath, I snuggled down in the blanket on the couch, curling up into a fetal position and silently wishing very much that Andrew would hurry back.

Another five minutes passed-although it could have been shorter or longer than that, I wasn't really sure-and the fever was beginning to make me feel a little floaty. I heard the door open and close and a strange sound that followed it. Thinking it was Andrew, I croaked. "Did you get the Ibuprofen?" But it wasn't Andrew's voice that replied.

"I was unaware that I was supposed to." Jareth's voice replied. I heard his voice before I saw him, and it stirred me some from my feverish half-sleep. He came round the couch by my feet, and I blinked at his shiny black boots. Were they always that shiny? When he saw me he froze, then in a hurry he moved forward and knelt down beside the couch, his face oddly blurry. But I could swear his eyes had what looked like concern in them.

'Wait-am I dreaming?' I wondered suddenly. I was feeling kind of floaty, so I could've been. Brow furrowing, I reached out to his face. He looked surprised by the action, and uncertain before he hesitated and at last intercepted my hand, taking it up in both of his. Oddly, relief filled me and I closed my eyes. "You're hot." Jareth said, his voice sounding anxious.

Whether it was dream-induced or fever-induced humor, I wasn't sure; but his comment made me give a derisive snort, followed by a grin and a burst of giggles at his remark. Opening my eyes, my words were slurred when I replied. "Whyyy, thank you, Sir! You're not so bad yourself!" I burst into giggles again at his shocked expression. His shock turned into seriousness, and he released my hand with one of his. Jareth rested his palm on my forehead.

His hand wasn't as cold as Andrew, and I closed my eyes again sleepily at how soothing his touch was. "That's nice." I murmured without thinking, and Jareth paused there a moment more. I felt his mild surprise in the air between us before it faded and he delicately shifted his hand from my forehead to my cheek. I was hot there, too, and the palm of his hand had since been warmed by my forehead. He turned his hand so the back of it was on my skin, cooling my cheek as he had my forehead.

His dry voice replied, but I thought I'd detected concern behind it. "I meant you're burning up. How long have you had this fever?" The urgency in his tone made me open my eyes in question, half squinting at him. "Just a couple of days. A lot of my coworkers have been getting sick lately, too." I blinked at him and after a moment my lips tugged down in question when he failed to offer a reply. "Why?"

Jareth hummed in response, scooting forward and narrowing his eyes at my forehead. "Not like this." My eyebrows twitched up at his observation in amazement, wondering how he knew.

"No," I agreed slowly, and his eyes met mine. "not like this." His lips curved down into a frown and he shifted so that his face was close to mine. "I can help lessen the fever, but I'm not able to interfere too much. Your own healer will have to assist you further than that." I hummed and nodded my head in way of a reply. "I know." I shrugged my shoulder. "It's something my doctor and I had been working on. I appreciate your help with the fever."

Jareth shifted closer when he suddenly paused and raised my hand in his. "You're missing your ring."

My brow wrinkled when I realized he was right. I had completely forgotten the ring! I'd left it sitting on my bedside table. "I forgot it in my room at my house."

Jareth huffed lightly, surprisingly not as annoyed as I thought he'd be. "You are exceptionally good at trying my patience." He foraged in his coat pocket until he found what he was searching for, and held the ring up with raised brows. "Oh!" I exclaimed quietly. He'd gone and picked it up? He looked down at our hands, turning mine over to put the ring into it. The nausea I'd been feeling abated somewhat, and I closed my fingers around the ring. Jareth continued. "I went first to your home, and when I found only the ring, I used its connection to you to find…" He looked around at Andrew's apartment with a clearly disdainful curl of his lip. "...this place."

Mismatched eyes met mine, the disdain fading in them when I smiled. "That was clever." I praised, and the disdain faded entirely into mild humor until I went on. "I'm sorry I forgot the ring. I hadn't meant to." I struggled to slide the ring onto my finger and was amazed by Jareth's tenderness when he muttered reassurances and helped me to put it back on. I let him help, feeling too weak to protest, and instead observing him. Once the ring was on, the nausea I'd been experiencing fled entirely and I closed my eyes, breathing deeply in relief.

"That's a lot better." I murmured, and somewhere in the back of my mind I noted with embarrassment how bold my words had been throughout our conversation. But the majority of my awareness was just happy to be feeling even remotely better than before. And in all honesty, I probably wouldn't even remember this conversation later. Feeling sleepiness begin to take over, I heard Jareth's worried voice like it was far away. "Amelia, I'm going to use a spell to reduce your fever now-you will fall asleep so the spell can do its work. You should still see your healer as soon as possible." I nodded. "I will."

Jareth hummed and responded. "Good." His cool hand rested upon my forehead and he murmured under his breath. A feeling like cool spring water running slowly over my forehead and across my head made me shudder and huddle further under my blanket. The feeling lasted and a peaceful sleepiness began to fall over me. It reminded me of summer at my parent's house. Of falling asleep in the hammock under the apple and cherry trees. Feeling the dappled sunshine and warm breeze on my skin, it was peaceful and soothing.

"Amelia?"

"Hmm?" I heard myself respond. I squeezed Jareth's hand when it shifted and loosened around mine. Was he going to leave me? Sudden panic hit me and I held tighter to his hand. "Don't go. Please. I don't want to be alone." His hand gently squeezed mine.

"It's ok, Amelia. I'm here."

But it wasn't Jareth's comforting voice that had replied-it was Andrew's.

My eyes snapped open. I squinted as the sunlight shining in through the living room windows hit my face. I could see Andrew kneeling before me where Jareth had been. He was a comforting sight, to be sure-but he wasn't the one I had expected. I realized Andrew was speaking again and I focused on him. "-I was able to get the ibuprofen, but I think your fever's gone down." I studied Andrew's face. He had put the bottle of ibuprofen on the coffee table beside a bottled water and his hand that wasn't around mine was rested on my forehead. Where had Jareth gone? Had I imagined him being here? I cast my eyes around the room carefully, looking for any sign that he'd really been there. When none presented itself, a strange ache in my chest appeared. I frowned at this and pulled my hand out of Andrew's without realizing it as I pressed my hand to my chest. The ache only grew.

"Amelia? Are you ok?" My eyes refocused on Andrew's concerned face and guilt hit me. Here I was thinking of Jareth, and a worried Andrew was before me. "Yes. Sorry, I was just thinking." Andrew smiled lightly, teasingly. "Well don't think too hard; you're still sick, after all." I smiled back and then winced when the burning in my forehead increased and a pressure started behind my eyes. "No danger of that." My eyes flicked to the ibuprofen on the table, and Andrew noticed.

"Do you want to take some now?" He queried. I nodded at once, hoping it would help take out the fever and help lessen my growing headache. "Yes." After Andrew got me the pills and water, I asked him if he'd get me my phone. He did, and his brow wrinkled. "Who are you calling?"

After finding the number I wanted, I rolled over onto my back, pressing one hand to my forehead and taking a deep breath. "First I'm calling my doctor. _The headache_ is back." I emphasized my words and immediately Andrew understood and grew serious. I went on. "Then I'm calling in sick to work. The headache will get worse before it gets better, and I'd rather not be somewhere stressful when that happens. Depending on what the doctor says, I may be staying home for some time."

I rubbed at my forehead with one hand, simultaneously smoothing away worry lines while trying to ease the pain. I was worried about my headache, of course; but I was also worried about whether or not I was doing the right thing by not telling Jareth the truth. The truth about how the the man who had stalked me now knew where I lived, and had broken into my house.

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A/N: I love Jareth's concern in this chapter. X3 Sooo sweet. Anyway. Chapter nine!


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thank you for your patience! I hope you like this chapter! ^_^

Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth

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A Writer Required

Chapter Ten

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"Look straight ahead." A little light was shone first in my left eye and then the right. "The pressure is definitely up again. Alright let's try your strength test. Hold out your hands and pinch your thumb and index fingers together." The way Dr. Jacqueline Marquez gave the instruction was almost practiced. We'd been through this a lot, so I already knew what to do. I had my fingers together even before she finished speaking. She didn't seem affected by it, though. It was our norm.

She started on my right hand first. Taking my thumb in one of her hands and my index finger in the other, I squeezed my two fingers together as hard as I could and she tried to pull them apart. The fingers of my right hand came apart a bit, and she hummed in response. "Ok, now the left." She moved to my left and did the same. Pulling on my fingers, my index finger and thumb pulled away easily.

I made a face. She gave me an encouraging glance, but I could tell she was worried. "Palms down now, please, and don't let me move your hands." Again I preceded her and my hands were ready. She tried to push them down at the same time with her own hands. My left hand gave way and my right wavered slightly. "Ok." The doctor murmured, then turned her hands palms up beneath mine. "Now I'll push up on them. Same test, don't let me move your hands." She pushed up on my hands, and I tried to keep them in place as best I could. My left hand rose with hardly any resistance and my right moved just a bit.

"Let's try your legs now." She gestured back at the examination bed and I laid down. Lifting my left leg when she stepped to that side, she spoke. "Try not to let me push your leg back down. Ready?" I nodded, and with next to no resistance, she pushed my leg back down. My eyes widened in fear. It was worse than my left arm. She glanced at me, alarm in her eyes. My fear increased and I felt cold. When she saw my expression, she quickly smoothed her own away to into a reassuring calm. Without another word, the doctor tried my right leg, which responded better and stronger the lower it got. Hesitating, thoughtful, she offered me her hand, and helped me to sit up, all while I could see a pensive look turning the wheels in her mind through her eyes. She was working something out.

The doctor stepped back once I was upright, and typed some notes on her laptop before speaking. "Your left side is weaker than it was the last time you came in-your left leg in particular. I'm going to prescribe the same medicine as before, to lower the spinal fluid pressure around your spine and brain. You may get drowsy, so I'd recommend taking it a while before trying to drive again." She leveled a stern look at me. "I want you to take a week off of work to test it. I'll write a note to your employer, so he's aware of the circumstances." All the time she'd been speaking, I felt my shoulders sagging lower and lower. A week off work? I needed what money I could get to pay bills! I frowned to myself. 'I'll have to take up extra shifts when I can work again.' I thought, then remembered what she'd said about the side effects.

I shook my head negatively. "I remember the side effects. I would only get a bit dizzy at first. It goes away after about an hour." Dr. Marquez's lips pressed thinly together but she still looked stern. "Even so, I'd rather you take that full week to get used to the medicine. Call me the second to the last day and tell me how you're doing. When I'm sure you'll be alright, we'll order more for you, and _then_ you can return to work." I didn't argue the point-though I wanted very much to do so-I knew if I wanted to get better, then I had better listen to her. As much as I hated taking pills, the alternative was far less pleasant.

I called Andrew with what the doctor had said once the appointment was over, and he offered to have me stay with him until I'd accustomed to the medicine. I thanked him but declined, wanting to keep to my everyday schedule as much as possible. He agreed to this with uncertainty, assuring me that I was welcome to stay with him should I change my mind. I reassured him, and he reluctantly let the issue drop.

"I'm at your house now." He said through the phone. "I talked to the police. I don't think anything is missing, but you'll be better able to tell. The door is broken and will need to be replaced. The police couldn't find any fingerprints, though. Was the burglar wearing gloves?" Andrew asked. I tried hard to remember.

I remembered seeing the knife, seeing his face, and now I thought about it, I couldn't remember whether or not he'd been wearing gloves. His hands had seemed dark, though, so he could have been. I told Andrew as much and I could hear the frown in his voice. "Well don't worry about it any more. The police said they'll run extra patrols in this area, but they can't do much more than that. They recommended getting a stronger door and an additional lock, which seemed kind of obvious to me..." He trailed off with an irritated huff.

A faint laugh escaped me at his tone. I wasn't entirely surprised-I knew the police could only do so much. I did still need to get a new door, though. "I know a guy at home depot, I'll have him bring a new one over." Andrew was saying. His words brought my attention back to him. "What?" I questioned, not sure I'd heard right. I could sense the shrug Andrew offered on the other side of the line. "I know a guy. He'll get here before you get back. Would it be ok if I have him go ahead and install it for you? That way you don't have to wait, and your house will stay warm." I hesitated. I didn't really like the idea of Andrew just choosing a door for me-and especially after last night I didn't want some strange man I didn't know in my house. But I did want to be home, and I did want to feel safe again, and I _really_ needed a door. I relented. "That would be great, Andrew, thank you."

I went by the pharmacy on my way home to pick up the medicine my doctor had prescribed. I gave the bag a dirty look when the pharmacist handed it to me. "Have a nice day!" She said cheerfully. I offered her an attempt at a smile and hers fell. "Thanks. You, too."

As I walked out of the store, I wondered about telling Jareth the truth about my stalker-turned-burglar. But for some reason I got this bad feeling that if I did, that he'd take drastic measures if he felt I was at risk. Whatever those drastic measures would be, I didn't know; and I really didn't want to find out. Maybe if I talked through what-if scenarios with him, that would help and maybe if I went about it carefully enough, he wouldn't get suspicious. My stomach sank. I couldn't help but doubt that. Still, at least then I'd have a good idea of his plans and what I could do to prevent him from doing anything extreme.

I took a deep breath and let it out, focusing on the icy road before me. 'Maybe I should just tell him and have it over with.' I thought. I needed to tell him about my illness, anyway, and it would give him a break from traveling back and forth for a while. He could take care of his kingdom while I recovered.

By the time I returned home, Andrew and his friend were just finishing up. I was surprised that I actually liked the door. It was an older, charming style, but made with modern materials so that it wouldn't warp or crack with the temperature changes. Besides the usual doorknob lock and sliding bolt, a chain had been installed. I couldn't help wondering if it would do any good. The chair didn't look particularly strong, even with Andrew's friend reassuring me that it and the door was the strongest design yet.

At these words, my stomach teetered to a lower position. How expensive was the door? When I asked, Andrew waved away my concerns with a smile, "I already took care of it." and Andrew's friend, Derek, nodded confidently. "I gave him a really good deal, too. These doors are popular lately and incredibly sturdy." He patted the door almost fondly, passing me a grin. "I have one, myself. You needn't worry about another burglary attempt."

My stomach rose from its sunken position as a steadying reassurance settled over me. "Thank you so much, I appreciate it."

"Not a problem. You two have a good one." Derek winked at me and nodded to Andrew. "See ya tonight." Andrew returned the gesture. "Thanks, Derek. See you later." My brow furrowed. Did they hang out often? Andrew saw my expression and grinned. "Derek and I do poker nights with some of my other coworkers." He shrugged. "My boss thought it would help us get to know each other and increase productivity." He chuckled. "He wasn't wrong." Andrew waved to Derek as he drove off, and we stepped inside.

Andrew stayed a little while, insisting on building the fire for me and half-ordering me to lie down to rest on the couch. My fever was gone, but the headache and ache growing in my back had become stronger. He made sure I took my medicine and afterwards that I was as comfortable as possible. "You're an angel, do you know that?" I said when he at last settled down on the floor before me, his arms resting on the couch cushion. Taking up my hand in his, he pressed a gentle kiss to the knuckles. "You know I love you-and I will do anything to make you happy."

My heart warmed at his declaration and a smile blossomed upon my lips. "I love you, too, Andrew. Thank you for taking such good care of me." Andrew smiled, and after a few minutes had passed, I got the sense that he was wanting to leave. He seemed fidgety and distracted. It took me a glance at the clock to realize why. He was usually at work by now. He must've been anxious about getting into trouble with his boss. "Andrew if you need to go to work, then you can go. I'll be fine here." I squeezed his hand for emphasis. "I'm just going to sleep, anyway." Andrew was hesitant, and his expression torn in indecision.

"Alright… So long as you're sure?" He raised his eyebrows. "I can just call in-" I cut him off with a frown, waving one hand-though it was more of a vague movement of my fingers-and replying. "I'll be fine, really. You should go to work." Andrew's expression was a war of uncertainty, but eventually he slowly nodded. "If you're sure…?" He began, and I hummed. "I am. I'll be fine." He made a face but sighed. "Ok. But if you need me, don't hesitate to give me a call, alright?" I hummed again, a nod being too painful at the moment. "I will, I promise." My promise seemed to satisfy his concerns, for the lines on his forehead eased away and he pressed a kiss to my forehead before reluctantly gathering his things and leaving.

It turned out I was right about the medicine's side effects. It left me dizzy for a solid hour. My boss had been understanding when I'd called him, and he told me to call if ever I needed anything. I thanked him, telling him I really just needed rest. While I didn't have work, I did still need food. I'd kind of forgotten that food was important, and that I needed some.

I waited a half hour after the dizziness wore off to go to the store. Sunglasses helped with the light sensitivity my eyes were experiencing, but I cringed at the noise around me. It made me wish I'd worn earbuds to tone down the sounds of the super store. I was in and out of there as fast as the self checkout lane allowed, and having only grabbed the necessities, was finished in no time. I knew the trek to my car would be treacherous, but a few cars had been kind enough to stop for me when I needed to cross the lane to the parking lot. I drove carefully home, relieved to have the experience over with.

Wincing as I staggered in through my living room door, I wondered if I shouldn't have taken a rest from grocery shopping, too. I could've asked a family member to get me these things when they went shopping, but with how bad the weather was, I didn't want them to be out in it any longer than they already had to be.

Jareth surprised me when I came inside, and I nearly dropped my groceries. He'd been standing behind the couch, staring at where I'd been lying down with intense concentration. My blanket had been pushed to one end of the couch, my pillow at the opposite end and a water bottle on the floor before the couch. His arms were folded and his hands clenched into fists, one of which was pressed against his lips. He didn't even give me the chance to speak, and he didn't bother looking at me. "You should be resting." His voice was hard, and I made a face. Swallowing in anxiety, I replied quietly. "I needed food and some other necessities. I wouldn't have gone if I didn't need them."

I shifted the weight of the bags and tensed when my back twinged, sucking in a breath to hold back a hiss of pain. Instead I forced out words. "Sorry, I need to put these away." I set my bag on the floor, fighting a wince of pain when my back hurt worse and my brain felt like it was flopping to one side of my skull when I leaned over. Ignoring the pain as best I could and avoiding looking at Jareth, I walked to the fridge to put the milk and eggs inside. Jareth didn't answer, but instead turned and watched me. I only knew it because I could feel his eyes on my back.

After I'd put away the rest of the groceries, I moved to the far side of the kitchen and grabbed my kettle with a breath of relief. It was ridiculous how heavy a few bags and milk jugs were. "I'm making tea, would you like some?" I glanced at Jareth in time to catch his expression. He'd come to the doorway separating the kitchen from the living room and leaned against the frame with his arms folded.

His eyes widened incredulously at me. "You're ill-you should be resting, not making tea." I turned to the sink and filled the kettle from the tap without looking at him.

"Do you want tea or not?" My tone was a little waspish, and I grimaced in apology. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to snap at you."

Silence was his choice of response, and I pursed my lips. He was still mad at me for going out, apparently.

Once the kettle was full, I set it on the stove and switched on the heat. Leaning back against the counter, hands in my pockets, I winced and clenched my jaw in pain. Quickly I leaned forward again, resting my hand on the counter for support instead. I saw him looking at me strangely, and ignored his penetrative gaze.

Before he could ask anything-if he'd been planning to, anyway-I turned around and brought two simple white coffee mugs down from the cupboard. I passed by him and placed them at opposite ends of the table. My nose picked up his fragrance as I walked. He smelled of dark leather and spices; crisp winter air and peaches, and a musky scent like what I might imagine magic would smell like-almost a deep electric sharpness. There was also a clean woodsy smell that was subtle, but still present. It made me think of a pine forest, and I wondered if that was from his owl side.

As I set up the rest of the tea things, I thought on this and tried to ignore the eyes I could feel staring at the back of my head and occasionally resting on my back and left leg. Did he notice the difference? I felt cold when I thought this. I knew I'd have to tell him; but the fact that he might have noticed already made me a bit nervous for his reaction. Finally I came to stand by one of the chairs, and gestured at the one adjacent from me. "Please have a seat." After a moment he did, and behind me the kettle began to whistle. Not long after, we both sat across from each other enjoying our tea. The Goblin King and I, enjoying tea. I couldn't help but to smile a little behind my mug. It was probably silly of me to be amused by it.

My smile faded when I took a sip and placed my cup back where it rested on the table. "Why do you limp?" He asked suddenly, and I felt as though his serious, mismatched gaze, had burned into my very soul. I froze, eyes widening; and I was glad I had swallowed that last sip of tea-otherwise I certainly would have choked.

"E-Excuse me?" I gasped, and somehow still managed to choke. I coughed once in an attempt to recover. He leaned back in his seat and gestured with a nod of his head and a flit of his eyes towards my left leg.

"You were limping while you prepared the tea and earlier when you came in." My face grew pale as the blood drained away, and I felt cold. 'Great.' I thought, as a strong, sudden fearful apprehension coursed through me. I stared at him in a panic and any excuse I might have thought of to avoid this, escaped me. My silence had been long enough now, anyway, that I might as well have admitted it. Jareth raised his eyebrows, knowing this. Knowing he was right. He wasn't the first to notice the limp. People rarely did, or they'd ask me about it like he had.

I bit my tongue lightly and almost out of instinct answered him the same way I had answered those few others. "I'm fine, just walking and thinking." But it was a weak explanation at best, and at worst a lie. It had always been a lie. I cringed internally, but it must've shown on my face, for Jareth saw plainly through the lie regardless of the expression.

"Oh?" His tone was dangerous and his eyes narrowed-and it most certainly was not a question. "Would you care to answer that question again, this time with the truth?"

I realized then, that there wasn't much point in denying it further. If anything I felt a little stupid in denying it at all with him. He built the Labyrinth, for crying out loud! A place riddled with deceptive puzzles. He could probably spot a lie a whole world away! I sighed internally. In other situations the lying about my leg had become necessary. I subconsciously mimicked his posture, leaning back in my own chair, and I hesitated before I spoke.

"I have… Idiopathic Intracranial Hypertension." When he gave me a blank look, I sank a little in my chair in discomfort that had nothing to do with the pain in my back-and grudgingly continued. "It's a chronic, incurable disease. It mimics a brain tumor in symptoms, and is just as dangerous." I took a deep breath, as though hoping to avoid telling him. Instead, the words flowed out. "It's when the body produces too much spinal fluid, and puts pressure on the brain and spinal cord." I avoided looking at the expression on his face once I'd caught a glimpse of it, willing myself to continue. "Which means I get migraines, nausea, light and sound sensitivity, and numbness on one side of my body. In my case it's the left." I lifted my left hand and waved my fingers. I noticed even this action was weaker than it should have been.

"I can still feel things-some temperature, pain-but not as well as my right side can." I clenched my fist as tightly as I could, the knuckles turning white, but my hand shook, my palm feeling numb. I did the same with my right hand, which neither shook, nor felt numb. I did this as I was speaking. "The left side is weaker as well, so I limp most of the time. It's worse some days more than others; it hasn't caused me to fall or drop anything, but I avoid carrying anything heavy when I can help it." I shrugged. "I'm lucky, though. Other people often have more severe symptoms. Some go blind or deaf or are incapacitated by the illness-having to stay in bed all the time. The headaches are that painful."

At Jareth's intense expression, I wanted to take back what I'd said. But it was too late. He'd read my earlier fib-read me like a children's book-easily, and without a doubt of the meaning of the words. I may as well have had 'I'M LYING TO YOU, JARETH!' Scrawled in bold red permanent marker across my forehead. In short; he'd know again that I was lying, and likely grow angry. Not the best thing.

I swallowed, then peered into my tea. Changing the subject, I lifted my cup and drank deeply before speaking with an attempt at a cheerful smile, "Would you like some cookies? I have some strawberry ones in the cupboard-" I said, turning and beginning to stand to make my way to the cupboard. But Jareth was suddenly before me. He had moved so quickly that one moment he'd been sitting at the table, and the next he was towering before me. I looked up, startled, and reached for my chair and the table to support myself from falling backwards.

I misjudged their placement, and my hands grazed them instead of grabbing hold, and I began to fall. But not before he caught hold of my arms, stopping me, and then gently lowering me back into my seat. My heartbeat seemed to run three times faster than it should, and my eyes were staring widely into his, my cheeks flooding with color. He made sure I was safely seated, and turned to point at the cupboard, keeping his eyes and one hand on me. "Here?" I nodded dumbly and he turned away fully to retrieve the long box. I stared at his back, not comprehending what had just happened. What _had_ just happened?

He sat back down a moment later, opening a bag of the strawberry cookies he'd retrieved from their box. He laid it sideways on the table so they stuck out at an angle from the opening. Jareth raised his eyebrows at me, and I hesitantly took a cookie. "Oh-Thank you..." I murmured.

The monarch just inclined his head and plucked one from the bag for himself. I continued to watch him, wondering. At last I voiced my thoughts. "Why are you here?"

He polished off his second cookie when I asked, and he stared at me a moment as though I'd grown a second head. "I was concerned." He gestured over his shoulder as though pointing out the past. "After my last visit, I wanted to be sure that you were doing better. Your fever was difficult to remove." He studied my face a moment with quiet intensity. "I see that it has fully gone, now." I nodded an affirmative. "Yes, it's gone." Jareth's shoulders relaxed, and he nodded, taking a sip of his tea. "That's good."

His brow furrowed when he lowered the cup to look into it, the warm liquid a lovely pinkish amber color. Sort of like red-orange sunflowers. "What kind of tea did you say this was? It's quite good."

I beamed proudly. "I call it 'The Queen's Garden'. I designed it. It has camomile, peppermint, rooibos jasmine, and strawberry pieces. It's really good with the strawberry cookies, or toast and strawberry jam." Jareth's eyebrows rose, first in surprise, and then as though impressed. "It's a good blend." He complimented, and I smiled, pleased he liked it. "Thanks. I've been working on another, but I can't seem to get it right." I shrugged with a disheartened frown. "Anyway, how are things for you? How fares the goblin kingdom and its king as of late?" I spoke my second question with lightly teasing regality.

Humor lit Jareth's eyes, and he raised an eyebrow. "Both are faring well, thank you. Paperwork and goblin quarrels over whether or not chickens should wear bonnets never cease." I grinned and laughed, and a strange look came upon Jareth's face. My cheeks went red in surprise, and I looked at him sideways. "...What?" Jareth blinked, and a distracted smile danced upon his lips. "I don't believe I've ever heard you laugh before. It has a pleasant sound." A tomato would be jealous of the blush settling upon my face.

A companionable silence fell around us for only a moment. It was pleasant enough, and I missed it when it was gone. Jareth's voice broke that silence.

"Amelia…" He hesitated, as though mulling over something complex that he was trying to make simple. "Yes?" I waited for him to continue. Mismatched eyes met mine with a discerning quality that had me suddenly feeling unsettled. "Have you noticed anyone strange around lately?" I felt suddenly cold, and he folded his arms as he went on, his thoughtful gaze turning to focus on the view out of the kitchen window. He missed my expression of horror, and I covered it up in case he should look at me, by lifting my mug to hide my face behind it while I pretended to drink.

"Why do you ask?" I questioned while all this was transpiring, and kept my slightly tipped mug just above my lip. Jareth's eyes flicked over to meet mine; I almost bit my tongue when my heart jumped.

Though his head was still tilted up toward the window, his eyes were shrewdly fixed upon mine. He continued with a slow, quietly firmer tone. "You didn't answer my question." The statement made my heart beat faster. I forced myself to take a calming breath. Now was the time to deploy my earlier thought out tactic. Schooling my features into seriousness-which wasn't too hard-I frowned. "It's kind of an odd question."

A shiver touched my spine when Jareth's eyes narrowed the slightest amount, and his mouth closed as he deliberated something. But the expression passed so quickly I was unsure I'd really seen it. He smiled abruptly as though amused; giving me a teasing look, "I suppose it is, isn't it?" and picked up his mug to have a drink.

I was thrown by his sudden change in attitude, and it probably showed on my face. Even so, I seized this opportunity to speak. "If I _were_ to notice someone strange hanging around, what difference would it make? What does it matter?" I said, and returned his frown. "What could you do about it, anyway? You can't just randomly appear because some creepy man started stalking me-" I stopped short at my slip up, paling. Jareth's amused expression fell flat, straight into dangerous territory. His mug froze on its way back to the table. I quickly amended my words and tried to appear calm, even though my speech was rushed. "-I'm not saying someone is-"

'-not at the moment, anyway-' I warily thought to myself. I continued aloud. "-I'm just saying _what if_ someone was? What could you possibly do?"

Jareth's dangerous glower lightened an inch's worth at my reassurance, but his eyes remained trained on me, a dark gleam in their mismatched depths. He set down his mug and answered. "I'd be inclined to ask him a variety of questions. By whatever means I saw fit." I tensed, apprehension coursing through me. "He would tell me everything, gladly, down to his deepest, darkest secret. _That_ I can promise you." The danger brimming Jareth's voice grew stronger.

"Isn't that kind of extreme?" I questioned, but his voice rose back to its regular volume. "No." The sharp reply made my heart jump and my eyes widen, especially when he spoke further. "Not in this case."

I opened my mouth to respond, when a sharp pain up my spine made me shut my mouth and take in a sharp breath. My face blanched with pain, and I felt the color in my cheeks fleeing.

He noticed the change in my demeanor, and a frown touched with concern settled upon his lips. Jareth seemed to remember my current health concerns and his expression turned serious. "We've talked long enough. You need to rest." Jareth stood up before I could protest, and waved his hand at the dishes on the table. They rattled and vanished, and I heard the kettle appearing with a sound as though someone had set it on the stove. The cups made a similar sound in the cupboard, the door to it creaking.

Jareth offered me his hand, and after a moment's hesitation, I took it. His hand was soft-surprisingly gloveless-and he was steady and strong, helping lift me to my feet. I made to let go of his hand, but he held fast, surprising me. "You should change for comfort. Do you need assistance to your room?" I minutely shook my head no, mute. I was too dazed by his kindness to even think about the possible impropriety of his words. The goblin king nodded his head and gently released my hand. "Very well. I'll be in the living room."

He waited until I slipped away to my room, and casting a look over my shoulder at him, our eyes met. My cheeks reddening, I looked away again in a hurry and went into my room, closing the door. I changed carefully. I didn't want to jostle my head and make my headache worse. I changed into a sweater, long pajama bottoms, and socks and slippers. I let my hair out of its bun, and my headache eased a tiny bit. I returned to the living room to find him sitting on the ground in front of the fire, prodding it with the fire poker and just then setting another log on it. He glanced up at me as I came in, and I folded one arm over myself to hold onto my opposite arm, feel self conscious.

Jerking his head at the couch, he half ordered. "Lay down." I didn't even have the energy to give a snarky remark to his order, and instead just did as he said.

Laying comfortably on the couch, I told him. "Thank you for checking up on me. You can go, if you want." Even as I was speaking, Jareth was getting to his feet and placing the poker back in its stand. He dusted off his hands-though there really was no need for him to.

"No." Jareth replied, facing me. "I'm going to stay a while, I think."

I frowned at this. "Really, you don't have to. I'll be just fine. I'll sleep most of the time; and we won't get any work done, so there's really no point-" Jareth spoke over me with surprising gentleness as he approached. "I've made my decision, Amelia. I'm going to stay." My heart warmed. I watched him settle down to sit on the ground before me, and he gave me a reassuring smile.

I hesitated, wondering if he was trying to trick me somehow. But his expression was so sincere-and I couldn't think of why he would trick me. I thought instead about how nice it would be knowing that someone was nearby. Someone who'd keep me safe. I could finally, really relax, without worrying about another stalker-burglar breaking in. Jareth would be here to look after me. At last I conceded. "Alright. Thank you." Jareth nodded and turned to lean his back against the couch.

Even though he turned his back to me, I got the sense that he was still very aware of my presence. I shifted on the couch, and his head turned slightly toward me, the peripherals of one eye fixing on my face. Seeing I was fine, Jareth turned his head to watch the fire, a vigilant air surrounding him.

I was watching the flames dance upon the logs in the fireplace when I heard him saying something. It took me a moment to realize that he wasn't actually speaking-he was singing. I listened with interest, and found to my surprise that the song was different from ones I'd heard in the film. It made the music all the more interesting to me. The notes themselves were mysterious and romantic and even a little bit sad.

 _"Sleep now, little flower,_

 _save your shining face._

 _Sleep in night's healing power,_

 _let it adorn you like lace."_

Jareth paused as though thinking, and hummed a few notes before repeating them with words. My eyes widened when I realized something. He was writing the song-right this moment! Immediately I was alert, slipping my head quietly forward on my pillow to catch more of his music. I saw his pointed ear twitch toward me, but relaxed again when I settled. He kept on singing.

 _"When the moon gives her light,_

 _the merry fae will prance._

 _There, in the peaceful night,_

 _you will join them in their dance."_

His voice was so soothing, I felt myself begin to feel sleepy.

 _"And when, in the morn you shall wake,_

 _the fair folk will not leave you forsaken._

 _But bless you with a changeling's gift,_

 _That you should join them, and not be taken."_

My eyes closed as if by their own will; but still I listened on.

 _"With love you shall be clothed,_

 _and hair bedecked with dew._

 _Never will you be lonely,_

 _For your friends will not be few."_

His voice softened.

 _"Your every moment will be guarded,_

 _the fae folk at your side._

 _And with their faith, wholehearted,_

 _they are in whom you can confide."_

A feeling of safety settled over me as he finished the song and I felt that rare, pleasant in-between feeling you get just before falling asleep.

All my anxieties seemed to have faded away. I was still very much aware of them-but it was like they'd been put on the shelf for the moment. In a way, I was free from my worries and fears, and I was at peace.

For now, everything was peaceful.

For now, I was safe.

I gave a small smile of gratitude. "Thank you, Jareth…" I murmured.

I heard the rustle of Jareth's clothing as he moved. His breath like a warm breeze drifted over my face, and Jareth's voice sounded quite close. "You need to rest." His tone was warm, tinged with something else I couldn't at that moment identify. I wanted to open my eyes, to see his face, but found they were too tired. "I'm so tired..." I told him, and Jareth's voice increased in warmth. "I know." I felt it when he tugged my blanket up higher on my shoulder, the soft fabric brushing my cheek. "Sleep, now. I'll keep watch." He said, and his hand released the blanket to take my hand in his, giving it a light, comforting caress. "I'm here."

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A/N: What did you guys think? Also: Below I've added the link to the tea mentioned, "The Queen's Garden". It's really good with toast and strawberry jam. You'll want to use an infuser for the tea; the tea comes loose in a container. If you buy some, let me know what you think! ^_^

The link didn't work, so you'll have to search 'Adagio teas' in a search engine and on the Adagio website search for 'The Queen's Garden, Madelyn' and it should come up.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Been feeling sick lately. I'll try to keep up with my previously set update days. It can be hard when I'm sleeping a lot, though, lol. Anyway, here's chapter eleven!

Disclaimer: Pretty sure I don't own Labyrinth.

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A Writer Required

Chapter Eleven

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Safe and warm.

That was how I felt when I eventually woke up.

The fire was crackling a sleepy conversation in the fireplace, catching my attention with its intricate sounds. After listening to it a moment, I opened my eyes. The first thing I saw was the fire in the fireplace, and the back of Jareth's head resting on his arm upon the edge of the couch. Following his arm with my eyes, I raised my eyebrows at our joined hands. My cheeks went a lovely shade of pink, and I looked to Jareth.

His eyes were closed, his face without lines and his expression peaceful. It took my breath away to see him so. He never looked like this around me, normally, and I was bewitched.

I continued to study his expression, going as far as to move my head closer to our hands to better see him. I studied him a good while, until a certain necessary need made itself known to me, and I squirmed in discomfort. I had to _go_. As in, right now. I tried delicately to remove my hand from his, and was stopped when his hand tightened firmly around mine. I held my breath, looking to his expression. His forehead had wrinkled, a frown beginning to touch his lips.

I looked at my and Jareth's joined hands and tried again to carefully pull my hand out of his, but Jareth didn't seem to want to let go of my hand. His hold remained firm, even tightening a little. I winced-both at his grip, and at my own personal discomfort.

I had to wake him up.

"Jareth…" I said, lifting my head to hover it above our hands and moving closer to his face. Jareth's hand twitched slightly when my long hair brushed over the back of it. I glanced at his hand, but it regained its firm hold, albeit with a gentler grip. I returned my gaze to his face and tried again. "...Jareth, wake up." Slowly Jareth opened his eyes, blinking in the morning light with a wince before his eyes found mine.

"Hello." I murmured warmly, studying his face. He just looked back, his sleepy expression making him look surprisingly sweet, and an odd emotion entered his eyes. It was nothing negative; he just looked at me as though he were taking me in, tiny detail by tiny detail. It was a look that made my heart warm and jump at the same time, and I was suddenly holding my breath. He smiled a little crookedly at me, and when his eyes flit down to my lips, his smile fell slightly. My cheeks filled with color and my heart fluttered with warmth. "Jareth?" I quickly prompted him. Jareth blinked.

"Ah-yes. Good morning, Amelia. Did you sleep well?" Somehow, even his sleepy voice sounded sweet. How did he do that? I nodded, and my hair brushed over our hands to hang over the edge of the couch. His hand loosened slightly and I replied. "I did. Did you sleep alright?" I glanced at the rest of him before my eyes returned to meet his. "I'm sorry you had to sleep on the floor."

Jareth raised a mischievous eyebrow. "Oh? Would you rather I join you on the couch next time?" He queried with a light, seductively teasing tone. My face went beet red, putting my previous blushes of the morning to shame, and my jaw dropped in speechless shock. Seeing my reaction, Jareth grinned and chuckled. "I'm teasing you, Amelia."

Relief and a bewildering disappointment hit me, and my blush faded a little. I rolled my eyes a bit, though it was not at its full attitude level, because I was not entirely over my shock. I gave a faint smile. "Sheesh." My earlier discomfort increased and my smile vanished-replaced by embarrassment. "Um… I need to go." I sat up carefully, and so did Jareth; though his earlier amusement was at once replaced by disapproval. His hand still held fast to my own. "Go? You can't be serious. How could you go out in your current condition?" He scowled and added. "Absolutely not." My eyebrows went up and I let out a small, sheepish laugh and an equally sheepish smile. "That's not what I meant." Confusion added to his already disapproving air, and I explained in a quieter voice. "I meant that I need to go use the _bathroom_."

There was silence.

Then, more silence.

Finally Jareth's own eyes widened and his cheeks filled with a faint pink color. "Oh. I see." He cleared his throat, saying, "I suppose there's no harm in that." his tone was stiff and cool, and tinged with embarrassment at the misunderstanding.

I grinned wider in amusement, then dropped the smile to feign seriousness. "You're probably right." I nodded my head as if he'd spoken wise words. He cast me a light glare, knowing this, and looked away again. I moved to slide off the couch to stand up, when I noticed Jareth had yet to release my hand. He also was not looking at me, his eyes fixed on the fire. I couldn't exactly take him with me. "Jareth?" His questioning eyes met my own. "Yes?" I glanced down at our hands. "I kind of need you to let me go first."

He looked down at our hands, then carefully removed his. "Ah-yes, forgive me." I smiled lightly. "It's fine. I'll be right back." Jareth offered an uncertain nod, and I felt his eyes on me until I disappeared into the bathroom.

It was while I was drying my hands that I heard my phone ringing. I came out just as Jareth had hesitantly called my name. I came into the kitchen to see him getting to his feet as if to answer the phone, and I quickly waved him down.

"I'll get it. I'll be just a second." I told him, and his concerned expression grew more so when I turned to my room, one hand holding onto the counter for support when my eyes decided to have different views of the room. One tried to magnify while the other to make everything seem farther away. It was upsetting, to say the least, and it made me feel nauseas. I shut my eyes and went by memory and touch to get to my room. It wasn't hard, being that my kitchen was a short galley kitchen.

My phone continued to ring-and I recognized it as my boss's ringtone. My brow furrowed. He knew I was out sick for the week-so why was he calling me now? Entering my room, I removed my phone from the charger and began again toward the living room. The turn around almost tipped me over, and my hand slapped to the dresser when I steadied myself. I hoped Jareth hadn't seen that. I ignored the increased nauseas feeling in favor of looking at my phone. I answered it with a greeting and slipped through the kitchen to make my way back toward the couch.

Jareth was half on his knees when I saw him; one booted foot planted firmly on the floor like he was about to stand up.

Resting my hand on the couch arm nearest to me, I hesitated in sitting. "Hey, Amelia. Sorry to call you so early. How are you feeling?" My eyebrows came together, and I answered honestly. "Not much better. Did you need something?" Was he going to ask me to come in? That was usually the only reason for a sudden call like this. I could almost hear his nod on the other end of the line. "Yes. Do you think you're well enough to come in for a little while today? We're short staffed."

Dismay filled me. I stared. First out the window, then down at Jareth. His brow furrowed at my likely thunderstruck expression, and his heavy brow accented a severe frown that was already upon his lips. Had he heard what my boss said? Or was he going by my own reaction? I sat on the couch and laid down slowly to keep from jarring my head. "What about the substitutes? Aren't they able to come in?" I questioned, closing my eyes and putting my free hand over them, rubbing my temples. We had easily six subs, if not more.

"None of them can come in." He explained regretfully. I replied after a moment of consideration. "Oh…" Did I really dare to go to work?

My stomach turned with indecision, the majority of it demanding that I remain home, while the smaller half wondered if I couldn't stay for at least a while. "Well… I guess I c-"

I never got to finish my sentence.

Jareth made a sound not unlike outrage and disbelief combined, and snatched my phone from my hand as he lurched to his feet. My hand over my eyes fell away in surprise, which quickly turned to wide-eyed panic when I realized what he was about to do.

"Jareth, don't-!" He cut me off with a glare and soft, firm words that pinned me in place. "I told you before, Amelia. You're not going anywhere until you're better." I gaped like a fish, trying to find the words. He lifted the phone and turned his eyes to a spot beneath the window. I felt sorry for that spot; his glare was terrifying. I snapped out of my stupor as Jareth spoke through the phone with such authority, that even the flames of the fire in the fireplace turned humbly subdued.

"Are you Amelia's employer?" The king demanded. I heard my boss's voice respond with a hesitant "...Yes." My boss paused again, indignation touching his next words. "Who is this I'm speaking to?" Jareth didn't skip a beat, and continued in the same authoritative tone. It was the kind of tone I could see him using in official settings in his own kingdom.

It made me feel a little sorry for my boss.

He was dealing with a king; a king with a wicked sharp tongue adept in sarcasm, and a frightening lack of fear. This authoritative tone was powerful, making even me wary as I watched him. "I am a friend of Amelia's. She will be staying home today, and for some time afterwards. Being a man in charge of many, I would have thought you had planned accordingly to allow her time to rest and recuperate." The accusation was biting, and I winced.

From where I was, I could feel the anger being held back on the other line. "Jareth…" I began in a whisper, though whether it was to caution him against my boss's possible future anger, or to warn him to speak with more respect, was unclear. It felt more like a combination of the two, and Jareth's eyes pierced mine with a steadying resolve. My shoulders relaxed the slightest bit. He was telling me with that look that he knew what he was doing. At least, I hoped that's what that look meant. His eyes still fixed on my own, he continued speaking into the phone. "I understand your position; however Amelia requires time to get well, and it is crucial that she get it."

The anger on the other line deflated some, and I didn't hear it, but my boss said something. The deflating anger continued to drain away, and Jareth's hard expression lessened, his entire person gaining an air of satisfaction. "Good." Jareth stated curtly. "Amelia will contact you when she is well again." He paused to allow my boss to reply, then finished with a curt. "Good bye." Jareth stretched his hand out to me, offering me the phone. I reached out to take it back, but before I could say anything, the screen darkened to show my boss had hung up.

My eyebrows rose. He hadn't bothered to say goodbye to me? But then… I glanced at Jareth's face as he settled back down next to me on the floor. He was still clearly furious. I'd go as far as to say that he looked 'prickly'. Jareth probably scared my poor boss to the point that he didn't think he needed to say anything more to me. There really was nothing for me to say, except...

"Thank you." I told him, putting my phone down on the couch. An upswept eyebrow lifted in question at my thanks. "I would have gone in if you hadn't said something." I lifted one hand to wave away his smug expression. "But maybe next time don't be quite so harsh, ok?" It came out almost pleading, and his smug look faded. I went on. "I would rather you try to be a bit more polite. This job has been really good for me." I settled down into my pillow and gave a shrug. "I'd rather not make him angry, is what I'm trying to say."

Jareth frowned and spoke with sharpness. "It's his own fault, Amelia. I wouldn't have had to intervene at all if he had taken measures to give you the time you needed." In a quieter voice he added. "Clearly he lacks the amount of intelligence needed to remember your ailments."

Wrinkles settled upon my forehead and I shook my head. "Whether or not he prepared accordingly, he's showing that he values my work." I realized in saying it, that it was true. He'd made the comment more than once about how he appreciated how well I worked with our clients. Jareth's grudging response pulled my attention back to him. "It is good that he recognizes you," His grudging tone turned darker. "but that doesn't excuse him from asking you to come in when you are unwell."

He was right; it really wasn't ok. I thought on his words a moment more before I nodded slowly. "You're-" I was cut off when a knock at the door sounded, and Andrew's voice called. "Amelia, it's me." I felt the magic around Jareth before I saw it, and it wasn't until I turned to look at him that I saw the reason for the magic. His clothing and physical traits had been transfigured. His ears were rounded and his long hair was cut short, his mismatched eyes now matched to be a piercing, icy blue. He wore a cream dress shirt and navy blue trousers. Black socks were on his feet, and glossy black dress shoes were sitting before his chair. He had a navy blue dress coat draped over the back of the chair. I made to get up to answer the door, when Jareth raised a hand to silently tell me to stop. With apprehension, I settled back down onto the couch, and watched him with mounting wariness.

Jareth scowled at the door. His short cropped hair seemed almost to stand on end before he shook his head once to settle it. Jareth met my eyes with his own, then took in the rest of me with his gaze. Seeing my blanket was pushed to the far end of the couch, he reached out to it. Putting his other hand on the couch next to mine, his fingers brushed the side of my hand; but I didn't bother to move it. For whatever reason, his touch was soothing to me-and I didn't want to lose the peaceful feeling it brought.

Jareth tugged the blanket up with a flick of his wrist, until it reached past my shoulder and brushed my cheek. This all took but a moment, and Jareth was on his feet before I could say anything. He quietly reassured me. "I'll get the door." I lifted my head enough to see over the couch arm and watched him answer the door.

Andrew's eyes were focused where my head should have been, had I answered the door. Blinking in surprise, his gaze flew up to meet Jareth's instead. "Who are you?" He questioned, the question on his face looking more like a demand the longer he took in Jareth's polished appearance. He made Andrew look sloppy by comparison.

"Jareth King. I am a friend of Amelia. And you are…?" The king's cool tone made Andrew's eyes widen slightly. Part of him must have recognized that the man before him was not someone to be trifled with. "Er-Andrew." His voice gained more confidence. "I'm Amelia's boyfriend." Jareth remained silent as a response, instead I watched in mortification as his eyes swept over Andrew as though measuring his worth. "Hmm." He harrumphed, and indignant anger entered Andrew's eyes. Before more could be said, Jareth stepped back against the door, opening it further and keeping his back to it. Giving a slow gesture of invitation into the room, Jareth waited while Andrew's eyes sought out, then found me on the couch. Concern filled his gaze and he hurried inside, not bothering to kick the snow off of his shoes or brush off his coat.

Jareth closed the door before my boyfriend was even halfway to the couch. I heard the king walk up behind the furniture I occupied and felt the weight change when he placed his hands on the back. Andrew knelt down before me and held my hand in his. He cast a look up at Jareth with a frown of mistrust, then ignored him in favor of speaking to me. "Babe, how are you feeling? Are you feeling any better?" Jareth made a sound of either disgust or contempt. I wasn't entirely sure without seeing his face. Apparently Jareth didn't approve of Andrew calling me 'babe'. It wasn't my favorite pet name, either, but it was an endearment that Andrew preferred using, so I allowed it.

"I'm doing a little better." I told him, and cast a look back at Jareth in silent reproval of his earlier reaction. He quirked an unrepentant eyebrow and one corner of his lips turned up as though amused. For some reason that amused me. I fought down a smile, though, so he wouldn't think I approved of his behavior. Despite myself, my gaze softened, and I turned my attention to Andrew as I spoke to him. "Jareth has been kind enough to look after me." While my own features had softened, Andrew's had hardened. "How nice of him." Frosty sarcasm layered his entire sentence.

This response was frustrating, and I retorted with similar frustration. "Yes, it was-and he deserves thanks for his help, not sarcasm." Andrew's eyes widened at me and his lips twisted slightly in an attempt to hide a scowl. Forcing himself to look at Jareth, Andrew spoke. "Thank you, for taking care of Amelia." The sincerity was there, though he still held a measure if displeasure in his countenance.

Silence fell. I looked up to see Jareth studying Andrew's face. At length he tipped his head in a slight nod of acknowledgement. "Of course." His eyes flit to meet mine. "I care a great deal for Amelia." My heart nearly stopped, and my mouth opened slightly. Pale blue eyes fled from my gaze to pierce Andrew's. "Her well being is important to me." My heart sank. Was he just concerned about my health because I was writing his story? Did he not really care for me as a person?

My heart sank further, and pain accompanied its descent. Andrew's response cut short my tumultuous thoughts.

"I appreciate it," He glanced at Jareth's shoes and coat. "But now that I'm here, you needn't stay any longer."

Jareth hesitated and I could feel his eyes on me; probably expecting me to insist that he stay. But my heart was now aching, and I found that I couldn't look at him. I could feel Jareth's expectant air between us turn surprised, and there was hurt, before it was smothered by a gradual bitter darkness. I kept my gaze straight ahead at Andrew's chest, my own heart beating faster.

Jareth removed his hands from the couch and took a step back. "Perhaps you are right." He agreed, his tone turning cool. Walking round to the head of the couch where Andrew was, Jareth spoke. "You might take care of the tea, then." My eyebrows came together, and Andrew looked purely confused. "The tea-?" Andrew questioned. The whistle of the teakettle on the stove called our attention. I couldn't see it from where I was, but Andrew leaned back to look. "Oh… Right, I'll take care of it." He patted my hand, "I'll be back in a minute." and stood, casting Jareth a look of warning before hurrying to the kitchen. I watched him go, letting my face betray my bewildered thoughts. When had the kettle been put on the stove? Had Jareth used magic to distract Andrew-?

My thoughts screeched to a halt, and my heart nearly jumped out of my chest, when Jareth bent down and placed a feathery light kiss on my forehead. "Be well." He murmured, and there was almost a magical cadence to the words. Peace settled over me, and my eyes blinked sleepily. As unexpected as the gesture was, it also seemed familiar, and in that moment I remembered the night of my fever.

I had wondered whether or not that had really happened; now I knew it must have. I focused on his eyes as though trying to read something complex-and at the same time I felt a bit of amazement. He had actually shown up then to heal me and help me feel better-that hadn't been a fever-induced dream. I looked up at Jareth, trying to decipher him.

Jareth sent me a gentle smile, "I will see you later." and with that said, he gathered his navy blue dress coat and slipped on his polished black shoes. He spoke next directly to Andrew with the same authority he'd used on my boss. "Amelia will need more rest. It's best that she sleeps as much as possible." A hesitant, stormy silence came from Andrew, and he replied a moment later. "I'll make sure she gets everything she needs."

Slipping on his coat, Jareth afterwards gave a nod, his tone having remained powerful. "Good." Glancing at me, Jareth added. "I'll come by again to see how you are doing." I felt Andrew's tense silence as he listened in, and I ignored him for the moment to answer Jareth. "Ok. Thank you, Jareth." The king gave a graceful bow and a light smile. "Of course, Amelia. Until later." Jareth then slipped past me without a word of farewell for Andrew. I watched as he stepped out to meet the cold winter morning air, closing the door quietly behind him.

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A/N: If you guys were wanting more Jareth VS. Andrew conversation/confrontation, don't worry. There's going to be more later.


	12. Chapter 12

AN: Feeling a bit better! (Yay!) Here's chapter twelve! Please let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth.

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A Writer Required

Chapter Twelve

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The week that I took to recover was a rollercoaster ride in good and bad days. My boss called me only twice to see how I was feeling, though thanks to Jareth, he refrained from asking me to come in. For the entire time that Andrew wasn't with me, Jareth was there. He watched over me and stayed by my side while I slept, and helped me whenever I needed something.

Jareth had become kinder over the course of the week, too. We got along much better than we had in the beginning of our business arrangement. Though that wasn't to say that he didn't choose to tease me on occasion. Particularly on bad days. On those days, Jareth would instigate a witty conversation or tell me funny experiences he'd had in his life. These stories usually ended up with me grinning, despite the fact that my eyes would be closed to avoid the pain that the light caused. On that kind of bad day, I usually kept my eyes closed the majority of-if not all-that day.

It was actually an amazing experience. I became familiar with the sound of his footsteps, the rustle of his clothing, and the calm that he always seemed to exude. Somehow, having my eyes closed magnified the calm-maybe it was because there was nothing else to distract from it with my eyes closed. Regardless of the reason for the enhanced calm, it was a welcome feeling that I gratefully took in.

Andrew, however, did not have quite that same calming presence, nor did he continue to have it when he came to visit me and found Jareth there. At first after Jareth would leave, Andrew would be angry and complain about the other man's presence. It wasn't until I told him how helpful Jareth had been, that he fell into a stony silence. He grew tenser and gradually more silent towards me when he came over and saw how well Jareth was treating me. It didn't help Andrew's mood, either, that Jareth always left with a subtle warning for my boyfriend to take better care of me.

Toward the end of the week as I began to feel better, Andrew's mood eventually improved. Particularly when he brought me my favorite cake. Beyond amazed, I asked him how he made it, and he sheepishly admitted to asking my mom to help him. Which, actually was a really good thing; because the last time Andrew attempted to make something from scratch, he nearly burned my house down.

After that, he'd kind of sworn off all cooking unless it was from canned foods. I didn't tell him, but I was really glad he'd made that decision.

At the end of the week I visited with my doctor, who said I was now well enough to work, but that I had to continue to take the medicine she'd prescribed. I had no problem with that.

It was at the usual time on my regular day off that Jareth arrived. I was babysitting my eight month old niece that morning-who was currently fast asleep-when the kitchen window was flung upwards, open to the blizzardy air. From my spot on the couch, I jumped with a yelp, and looked over in time to hear the window closing with almost a slam. An owl-Jareth squawked as he landed half sprawled out on the-thankfully clear-kitchen table. I could see his far wing and his head, but the rest of him was hidden behind the wall separating the living room from the kitchen.

He was covered in snow, and he stared straight ahead with large eyes, breathing hard with a wheeze. Concerned, I moved to stand, when a wail from my niece sounded from my bedroom. My eyes widened and I cringed in dismay. Hurrying toward the kitchen, I planned to check that Jareth was ok before I went to my room.

I went to Jareth, who now was sitting atop the table in his snow-covered, post-feathery majesty. He looked up from dusting snow off of his jacket onto the floor, an expression of alarm on his face as he pulled his head back when I stopped right before him. I looked him over to be certain he was alright, "Are you ok?" when he nodded mutely, I noted the only thing off about his appearance was the addition of snow.

I popped into the bathroom, grabbing a clean towel from the cupboard. "Here, use this to dry off." I said, and tossed it to him, before I continued through the kitchen toward my bedroom. Catching it, he spoke as I hurried away again. "You have a child?" He called to me. There was disbelief and something else in his voice, but I was too distracted at the moment to pay it much attention. Whatever it was, part of me must have understood it, for my heart jumped unexpectedly. For the moment I ignored it, planning on investigating it later. I focused instead on going to my niece.

As I disappeared through the bedroom door, I glanced back to reply, "No. This is my niece, Ava." and with that I slipped into my room. Just at the end of my bed sat a playpen, and I hurried over to it. I immediately saw the round little face of my niece, tears streaming down her face and her little mouth opened wide as she cried. Her curly onyx black hair that if it were any longer, would easily curl into ringlets, was currently wild from sleeping. Her sapphire blue eyes were squeezed shut and I bent down to reach inside. "Oh, lovey, it's ok!" I reassured her softly. Ava's eyes opened a margin when she heard me, and her crying quieted a bit as she stretched her tiny arms up to me. I picked up the half wailing infant and cooed to her.

"It's ok." I repeated, and held the eight month old close. I patted her back, talking soothingly against her head. "Ooo, princess. Aunt Amelia's got you, you're ok." Ava almost immediately quieted, and I kissed her head, wiping away her tears with my thumb. "Did we wake you up, little one?" I cooed quietly to her. Ava sniffed and her bottom lip quivered. She buried her face against my shoulder, beginning to wail again. It broke my heart to see her distress, and I rushed to reassure her in a gentle voice. "Aw, it's alright." I picked up her binky from the playpen, and cooing to her, applied it. She at once settled down again, blinking sleepily, and took a deep, shaky breath. A small smile of loving amusement tugged at my lips, and I picked up her blanket and wrapped it around her. She put her head down against my chest and I snuggled her, placing a kiss on the top of her head. "You're alright."

Taking Ava into the kitchen with me, I was surprised to see Jareth still sitting on the table, snow melting on his leather-clad shoulders and running in rivulets down his jacket. I came up to him, bewildered and concerned that he wasn't taking care of his half-frozen state. I ended up expressing that concern with more of a cross brow, though. "Jareth. Go sit by the fire." I heard myself ordering him, and his half frozen eyebrows sprinkled snow on his cheeks as they rose in shock. "I mean it-go!" I shooed him with one hand, and he slid languidly from the table to come to his feet, his body language hesitant.

Ava's little head turned against my chest under her blanket. I tensed, and both my and Jareth's eyes moved to look at the infant. She stilled and I gestured again toward the living room with the classic shooing gesture. It was difficult to say if Jareth was more affronted or amused by my new attitude, but he lifted his hands in surrender and one eyebrow in amusement, and stepped away towards the fire. I followed as far as the arch between the living room and kitchen, swaying in place to keep Ava calm.

Jareth approached the fireplace and crouched down before it with his back to me. An involuntary shiver passed over him when the heat radiating from the fire clashed with the cold snow still on him. His hands were ungloved in seconds, and he carelessly discarded the gloves on the floor beside him, too intent on getting warm to care if they got dirty. The pale digits of his hands flexed before the stone hearth, eagerly soaking in the warmth.

As he began removing his dripping jacket, I went to the couch behind him and picked up my favorite furry fleece blanket. It was one of my favorites for the simple fact that it warmed you up in a hurry. That, and the pattern was really cute. Little baby owls wearing overly large scarves and hats, sitting on bare winter tree branches. So in a way, it was appropriate for him. Coming back to his side, I held it out to him. "Here, this blanket is really good when you need warming up."

Jareth reached for the blanket without looking at it. I traded him it for his jacket, and just caught his reaction when he looked down at the blanket. He stopped in the task of wrapping it around himself, and his eyebrows climbed skyward as he stared. "What the-"

"-Baby!" I interrupted him in a sing-song voice, loud enough to stop any possible curses he might issue, but not so loud as to upset Ava. I was afraid he'd get cross and scare her if he raised his voice. The sing-song more than the interruption caught his attention, and Jareth stared at me. I shrugged awkwardly. "What? I took singing classes growing up-and the blanket is as functional as it is adorable, by the way." I turned away to put his jacket over the back of the armchair. I breathed out a near silent sigh as I eased into that same seat and crossed my legs at the knees. Jareth's scent was magnified coming from his black leather jacket, wafting down over me. The scent of melting snow added to the crispness of the fragrance. I smiled at him. "I think you're safe in your masculinity."

He glowered, though it was touched with dry humor. "Why thank you for your reassuring assessment."

"You're welcome." I replied airily, like a queen acknowledging a knight's accomplishments.

Jareth just smirked at me, and something about that look made me feel suddenly warm all over.

Ava sat up, then, startling me out of my stupor. Her blue eyes blinking sleepily. "Well, hello there." I said to Ava with cheerful warmth, tilting my head to one side to better see her adorably sleepy face. "Are you awake now?" Ava blinked at me and patted my face with both of her hands. I made a fish face, and Ava grinned. When she reached for my mouth, I exaggeratedly opened it wide, my lips pulled back over my teeth. Then with an "Om!" I pretended to chomp on her tinsy fingers. Ava squealed and giggled before immediately pulling her hand free. After a moment's pause, she did it again. I "Om!"'ed a second time with the same exaggeration. I caught her fingers, causing her to giggle. She pulled her fingers free and tried a third time, but I ducked my head and nuzzled her fingers with the top of my nose. "No more, I think."

Ava's smile faded and she made a whining sound of protest. "Sorry, little one." To cheer her up, I leaned forward to blow a 'zerbert' on her cheek, the action sounding like a tiny 'toot!'. Ava giggled and I grinned at her.

I remembered Jareth, then, and looked over to see him studying us with amused eyes. "You are quite good with her." My cheeks went a bit pink and I avoided his gaze by smiling down at Ava. Even so, I replied to his compliment. "Thank you. I've had a lot of practice working with kids. I have a big family, and I worked in a daycare as well." I shrugged. "I honestly miss working there." Ava had noticed Jareth when he spoke, and craned her neck to see him. I giggled lightly and lifted her gently to turn her so she was sitting with her side to me, making it easier for her to inspect this new stranger. Jareth came closer, placing his hands lightly on the ends of the arm chair's arms. The blanket had turned almost into a cape, somehow managing to remain on his shoulders. One of his knees brushed my foot, and his vest covered torso grazed my crossed leg. I tried not to think too much about the physical contact, and Jareth didn't seem to notice it, so I let it go.

Jareth smiled at Ava and once the baby had studied his face, she returned the expression, her eyes crinkling. "She likes you." I said, pleased. I'd been worried she'd be scared of him. 'But then…' I studied his gentle expression myself and reasoned. '...he isn't particularly scary when he actually smiles.'

"Hello, Small Lady." Jareth cooed. Ava watched him silently, then tentatively cooed back, reaching out a hand to his hair. Her fingers nearly grasped the wispy strands, and he chuckled, leaning away. "Let's perhaps avoid that. No one will take this king seriously if he is sporting a bald patch." I laughed lightly at the image he painted, and I shook my head when he glanced up at me, my cheeks darkening at being caught laughing at him. "I would be very surprised if anyone failed to take you seriously, Jareth. I think you'd manage." There was a surprised warmth in Jareth's eyes that warmed my own heart.

I turned my gaze away from his to instead look at Ava, determined to ignore the feeling for now. "What do you think, Ava?" I asked the infant, as though speaking to an adult. "Will he survive?" Ava cooed again with more confidence, this time sticking the fingers of one hand into her mouth, and the other hand taking hold of one of her feet. She smiled around her hand at Jareth. I nodded with serious solemnity as though she'd given a detailed explanation of his strengths. "I see." I said, peeking up at Jareth. His eyes were twinkling as he watched me, a soft smile on his lips.

He hummed. "Mixed signals, I see. What can it mean for my future?" For some reason the tone he used came across to me as more serious than it should have been. There was something faint behind his eyes that made me worry. It worried me, because he looked worried. I hurried to speak, smiling in reassurance.

"Maybe she means that it's a mix of good and bad?" I haltingly suggested. I tried to think of something else I could say to reassure him; but nothing would come to mind, and I felt frustrated that I couldn't help him more. Jareth didn't seem to notice anything amiss, his eyes almost distant within his own thoughts.

"Very wise." Jareth agreed with a teasing, sagely nod. Though for all his pretense, the worry in his eyes did seem to lessen a little. Ava began fussing then, and I looked down in time to make eye contact with her as she began patting her mouth with her fingers. I'd been teaching her baby sign language as she grew older, signs like 'eat', 'milk', 'more'. Patting her mouth was her sign for 'eat'. "Oh, are you hungry?" I asked, pointing first at her and then signing 'eat' by putting my fingers together and tapping my lips. Ava whined and patted her mouth again with more urgency. I raised my eyebrows and laughed lightly and nodded a 'yes'. "Food it is." Lifting Ava to rest against my shoulder, I moved to stand, when Jareth stood and offered me his hand. I was momentarily surprised by it, but thanked him and took his hand. Carefully he helped me to my feet.

Ava was less careful.

She leaned sideways toward the kitchen, and I sucked in a breath and held it as I gasped. Jareth's hand around mine brought both our hands up and used them to catch and cradle the baby. He'd stepped forward at the same time, his free arm going around my waist to pull me closer and aid in securely catching the baby. Ava giggled at us and waved her arms in delight, unaware she might have been hurt. "Ava…" I trailed off, my heart still drumming to a staccatoed military beat as I let go of the breath I'd been holding. I struggled to breathe. Jareth helped me lift her back up. Once Ava was properly settled, I breathed easier, though it was shaky. "Thank you!" I breathed, unable to fully regain my breath. I didn't realize it until now that Jareth's free arm had wrapped around my waist, when he had stepped forward to help me catch Ava. He appeared to have realized it when I did.

I felt his eyes on my face momentarily as he replied. "Of course." He seemed reluctant to let go of me, and I swore I felt his thumb move in a caress of comfort upon my back. But before I could fully register the action, Jareth carefully released me and stepped back to give me my space.

Clearing his throat lightly, Jareth turned and picked up the owl blanket where it'd fallen when he'd helped me save Ava. Folding it over one arm, he smiled at me. "Now. I believe there was a small lady who requested food?"

I nodded, still a little in shock from the almost accident. "Right, yes. Food." I felt a bit like a robot but ignored the mechanical reaction to go into the kitchen, Jareth at my heels. I nodded at a cherry blossom pink "bumbo" chair and tray that was sitting on one of the kitchen table chairs. "Will you put that pink chair on the table, please?" Jareth did as I asked, giving the chair a dubious look. He further removed the tray at my instruction, and I placed Ava into the seat. Strapping her in with the chair safety belt, I put the tray back into place. Jareth sat at the far end of the bench before the table, his elbows resting on the table and his hands clasped loosely together. He was watching me, while Ava was gurgling at him with a toothless grin. "I had yet to meet Small Lady until today-is there some reason you are caring for her now?"

I went to the nearby counter and pulled the large diaper bag my sister had left towards me. Thoughtfully I unzipped the biggest pocket, and answered his query. "I tend Ava on fridays if my sister's mother-in-law can't." I said with a smile, reaching into the bag. "My sister knows the stress of my job tires me out, so she only asks once in awhile." I made a face while searching for the homemade baby food. "Sometimes I think it'd be nice to quit and just become a nanny." I found a container labeled as pureed peas and another labeled as applesauce and gave a, "Ah-ha!" of success. Holding them up to show Jareth, I grinned. I gathered a bib and two spoons and came back over to the bench where Jareth was sitting. Putting the bib on Ava, I sat beside Jareth on the bench and opened the containers.

Jareth leaned closer to get a look at the puree, and his nose wrinkled in disgust. "What is that? It smells like dragon feces!" He grimaced, pointing at the peas. My eyebrows went up and then down. I smiled, saying laughingly. "It's just peas, Jareth." Still, the king grumbled. "Regardless, it smells abominable." I shrugged. "Well, then, be grateful you don't have to eat it." Dipping the spoon into the green mush, I ignored his glower and looked to Ava. I opened my mouth wide with an, "Ah!" and Ava mimicked me when she recognized it as a sign food was coming. I put the spoon in her mouth, then carefully pulled it back once she'd closed her mouth.

Ava's nose wrinkled and she gave me an alarmed, then sour look of betrayal. I chuckled. "Sorry sweetie, as awful as it tastes, it's still good for you." Opening the second container that held applesauce, I dipped the second spoon in while she worked on her first bite. "Round two is better, I promise. Ah!" I opened my mouth and Ava opened her own with some wariness.

"She's expecting the dragon feces." Jareth muttered, and his words weren't far from the truth. "She has my greatest sympathies." Jareth dryly added, eyeing the pureed peas with distasteful apprehension. Almost as soon as the spoonful of applesauce was in her mouth, the wrinkles on Ava's nose vanished and she waved her arms, opening and closing her hands in delight. Clearly, she really liked applesauce.

"Be prepared to hate me again, Ava." I warned her, picking up the spoon with the 'dragon feces' on it. She had been expecting applesauce, and her expression of shock at the peas was comical. I snorted before I could stop myself and ducked my head, laughing at the expression. The baby's face turned sour again, and I noticed that even Jareth's expression was touched with some humor. One corner of his lips came up in a crooked smile, his eyes sparkling a little.

I switched back and forth between the peas and the applesauce, and eventually Ava learned to better recognize which food she hated, and which food she liked. It was difficult at that point to convince her to eat the peas-especially because she'd taken to trying to swat at the pea laden spoon with her hand whenever she saw it, and would whine. When my phone rang, Jareth offered to try feeding Ava so that I could answer it. I was surprised but grateful, and I handed him the pea spoon. His look of disgust at the vegetable made me laugh, and he cast a glance up at me in time to see me grinning. He returned his attention to Ava and scooted sideways to be in front of her, then settled his arms down on the table. "Small Lady, your dear Aunt Amelia is a perfect beast for making you eat this." My jaw dropped in half indignation, half amusement, and I planted my fists on my hips. Before I could get too irked, however, I noted that there was a glint of humor in his eyes. My shoulders had begun to relax, when he cast a sly glance my way. Seeing this, my indignation fled to be replaced by humor; and I pursed my lips to blow a raspberry at him. "Sheesh!" I pretended to huff. Spinning around on my heels, I marched to my room with a mock-grumble. "You're the dragon feces!" I heard a chuckle from Jareth, and a smile lighted upon my lips.

I slipped back to my room to answer my phone, and once in my room, I cast Jareth and Ava a quick glance. He was smiling warmly at Ava, and had switched out the peas for the apple sauce. I heard him speaking to her. "Truly, apples are much better." Ava waved her arms and kicked her legs in excited agreement when she saw the fruit. "Ah…" Jareth said quietly, opening his mouth like I had before. Ava happily gobbled the spoonful of applesauce, and with a smile, I answered the phone with a greeting.

"Hey Amelia, it's Clara." It was one of my sisters, Ava's mother. "Hey Clara! How's it going?" I asked, and Clara sighed. "Not great. I have to run a few more errands before I pick Ava up." I peeked around my door to check on Ava and Jareth, who was still quietly conversing with the infant. "We have excellent apples in the castle gardens." His voice was gentle, somehow making me feel peaceful despite the fact he wasn't even talking to me. Even the house felt more peaceful, and I took in the feeling with some amazement. How did he manage to alter the entire feeling of the house with only a few words? But then, words have power. I studied Jareth with keen eyes, then, wondering. It wasn't a spell, that I could tell. Perhaps it was just his presence, affecting everything around him.

Clara's voice recaptured my attention. "Amelia? Can you hear me? I said I'd be an hour or so late." I forced my attention back to my sister. "Oh. Right, that'll be fine." Relief was in Clara's voice. "Great, thank you! See you in a while!" I replied briefly. "Ok, see you later." While I'd been speaking to Clara, I'd had the opportunity to watch and observe the activity between Jareth and my niece. His entire countenance altered when he was talking to her, and she was completely comfortable around him. Already she was giggling, and gurgling baby talk nonsense at him, and Jareth would reply as though they were having a discussion. It was really sweet, and I like this side of Jareth a lot.

I was about to return to the kitchen proper to continue feeding Ava when she looked over and saw me, reaching one applesauce donned hand out to me. "Whoa, look out! Applesauce hands!" I called in pretend caution. I smiled at her and Jareth, the latter returning my smile with amusement. "She seems to think she can feed herself, now." Jareth nodded at Ava, who must have earlier grabbed hold of the applesauce on the spoon. Getting a clean wash cloth, I ran it under lukewarm water from the tap and wrung it out. I came up to them, folding my arms and humming a brief tune. I felt rather than saw Jareth's eyes on my face, and I replied to his comment. "She's at the age where she's better able to grab and lift things. Ava could start using her spoon herself in the next few weeks or so."

Ava whined when she tried to move her fingers, the applesauce stuck between them making her hands sticky. She'd just discovered the disadvantages of having dirty hands. Holding out my rag free hand to her, I said. "Hand, please." Ava reached her hands out to me and I used the rag to wash one. "Wash-wash-wash-wash-wash-wash!" I said quickly as I cleaned first one hand and then the other, then lastly her face. The baby giggled the whole time, and after I had finished, I saw Jareth giving me a strange look. "Why do you say that when you clean her hands?"

Turning the rag inside out, I wiped down the bumbo tray and removed both it and Ava's bib, before tossing the rag into the sink. While unbuckling Ava from the chair, I answered Jareth. "I say it to make it funny." Our eyes met for an instant before I picked Ava up and held her close, patting her back to help her burp. Jareth raised an eyebrow. "Why?" My reply was immediate. "Because if I don't make it funny or fun, she fusses and gets upset. Most people don't realize how a little bit of silliness can make something boring, fun." At Jareth's intrigued expression, I went on to explain. "For example: If I were to cover my eyes and uncover them without saying peek-a-boo, there'd be little to no reaction. But If I say peek-a-boo as I do it, suddenly it's a game. That's why I repeat myself while washing her hands." Understanding filled Jareth's eyes and he chuckled.

"I see." He said, coming to his feet as I walked back to the diaper bag. I retrieved a baby bottle, readily made, and a couple burp rags. Tossing one end of both rags across my free shoulder, I went into the living room with the bottle and Ava in my arms.

Sitting cross legged on the couch, I cradled Ava and showed her the bottle. Immediately she made the sign for milk, basically asking for the bottle. While Ava ate, Jareth had followed me and sat down on the couch beside me. Jareth turned himself slightly towards me, one leg folded up on the couch and the other down, his foot resting not far from my own. He sat down with such a natural, graceful air, that his closeness didn't even bother me. If anything, his presence was comforting. He placed his arm lightly behind me, just grazing my shoulders.

Ava finished her bottle in record time, and after I burped her-with her giving only a tiny bit of spit up with one particularly hearty burp-she fell asleep in my arms, snuggled close.

"I think our Small Lady is tired." Jareth observed with a gentle, amused smile. His arm lowered a little until it fully met my shoulders in a way that was comforting-and I remembered then how he'd casually thrown that arm over my shoulders earlier. His words hit me with a jump of my heart, and I wondered at what he'd said. Had he realized what he had implied? I glanced sideways at him, even while the air between us abruptly thickened with a sudden awkward tension. Jareth's eyes met mine, and there was a startling swirl of emotions in their depths. Almost as though he wanted to say something. He opened his mouth, paused, then shut it. Resignation came into the mix in his eyes, forcing out all of the other emotions but one.

Sadness.

My eyebrows came together in concern. He was sad? Jareth cleared his throat, startling me from my thoughts. Then as carefully as he had casually, Jareth removed his arm from near my shoulders and moved himself forward to perch on the edge of the couch cushion, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

Jareth had been strangely quiet, and I leaned sideways a little to try and see his face better. I was surprised, to say the least, at what I saw. Jareth glanced back at Ava with glassy, distant eyes. Sad eyes. His eyes came up to study me, giving me the same look. When he realized I'd seen his expression, a stony mask fell over his face and the sad eyes I'd seen with alarm, focused instead on the fire in the hearth. My brow furrowed in a hurry when I saw it.

Gently I shifted Ava to one arm and reached out to place my hand on his. "Jareth. What's wrong?" The goblin king seemed to snap out of his thoughts, and gradually he began to tell me a story.

"A long time ago, long before I met Sarah, I had a wife." Jareth's voice was so quiet that I almost missed his words. He went on without prompting. "I had a wife and a son."

My heart ached painfully and my headache twinged slightly at his words, but more so at his pained expression.

Jarethtook a shaky breath and swallowed, his eyes meeting mine. He seemed unable to continue.

His eyes had become glassy again with unshed tears, and he fixed his gaze on the floor before him. Swallowing, he cleared his throat slightly and spoke. "I will tell you the rest tomorrow." Jareth's voice was suddenly quiet.

"I should be going." He added abruptly, and turned his head to nod at Ava. "She needs to rest." Jareth's eyes passed up to meet mine briefly. "As do you." He turned away again.

"Jareth-" I began, but he stood up with care to keep from jostling the couch, and me and Ava with it. He fetched his coat and put one arm into it. I tried again. "Jareth, really, you don't need to go." I found myself saying in a hurry, almost pleadingly. Jareth's eyes met mine when he pulled his coat on the rest of the way and he paused in adjusting his collar when I bit my lip. His gaze studied the action for only a moment, then he shook himself as though shaking away a thought. He smiled thinly at me and finished with his collar. I got to my feet, Ava asleep now. Jareth went on. "You don't need me here any longer. I will come by tomorrow for our project." Jareth then turned to the fireplace where his gloves were still discarded nearby. He began putting them on, when a knock came from the door.

We both looked at the door with apprehension, and I glanced at Jareth. He went to the window and peeked out the curtains-and a strange expression flit across his face. "Who is it?" I asked quietly, coming closer. I stopped when Jareth leaned away from the window, a stony mask covering up his peculiar expression. "Your neighbor." The king marched past me towards the kitchen with a curt explanation. "I'll leave through the window." Before I could take more than a few steps to follow him, he had jumped into the air and transformed. In another second he dove at the window, which flung itself open and then shut promptly after he disappeared from sight.

Another knock, more insistent, hit the door. I grimaced, looking from the door down to Ava. She'd woken up with the kitchen window shutting. She was still sleepy, though, and thankfully not upset. I knew I'd have to rock her back to sleep later, but for now I might as well answer the door and send Jack away. After a half a second's hesitation, I went back into the living room. Seeing the baby owl blanket Jareth had used earlier, I picked it up and tossed it over Ava and myself to protect us both-but her especially-from the frigid winter air. Taking a breath, I answered the door.

Sure enough there was Jack, snow shovel in hand. Over the houses across the street, I caught a glimpse of Jareth's white form as he circled the area twice, then pulled a sharp turn and vanished beyond a grouping of tall, snow heavy pine trees. "Hello, Amelia! How've you been?" Jack half turned and gestured at my stairs, now cleared of all snow. "I've shoveled your walk and stairs for you." His eyes traveled down, finally realizing I was holding an infant. "Is that a baby?" He questioned in surprise.

"I'm babysitting my niece." I told him shortly, and suppressed a shiver at the cold. I had a feeling Ava was going to be upset soon if I didn't finish up this conversation and shut the door. It was too cold for an adult without a coat, let alone a tiny infant in a couple blankets. "Look, I appreciate it Jack, but you really don't need to do that. It's been warmer lately, and the ice is melting away-" Jack was already shaking his head 'no' as he cut me off. "I don't mind, Amelia. I haven't much else to do, anyway, and I like helping people." He shrugged. "That's nice of you-" Ava shifted in my arms and I quickly nodded at Jack when he looked to the infant. "-I should put her in bed, now. She's really sleepy."

Jack nodded, but paused halfway through turning around to leave. "Amelia-is Andrew here?" My eyebrows went down in question. "No, why?" Jack looked past me into my home and lifted an eyebrow. "I just wondered. I thought I heard a man speaking."

Panicked, I answered hurriedly. "I was on the phone a minute ago." Jack looked skeptical. "On speaker?" My cheeks flushed in anger and I cast a pointed look down at the bundle in my arms. "Well, I do kind of have my hands full. So, yes." When Jack still looked unsure, I added. "It was someone I'm working with." It hit me as I finished speaking that he had no right to be questioning me; and I certainly didn't have to answer him! I scowled at my neighbor, coming to my full height. "Regardless of who I was speaking to, Jack, it's really none of your business." Jack's eyes grew huge and his jaw dropped in wordless shock. I nodded at the stairs and walkway, my anger thawing enough to allow sincerity through it. "I really do appreciate your help with the walkways, but I can handle my personal life on my own." Ava shivered, and despite Jack still recovering, I hastily spoke. "It's too cold for Ava out here, so I'm going to shut the door now. Good bye, Jack."

"G-Good bye." Jack sputtered, and I shut the door.

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AN: There's chapter twelve. What do you guys think?


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: After weeks of illness and travel, I bring you chapter thirteen. My recent trip helped immensely with inspiration and I was able to do more writing and get more inspiration during that time, then I was before when I was ill. I'm immensely glad I went on this trip, and now you guys get chapter thirteen! :D Carry on, my dears!

Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth. I just sometimes have ideas that have to do with Labyrinth and its characters, and often write them down.

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A Writer Required

Chapter Thirteen

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I wouldn't tell her.

I _couldn't_ tell her.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror of the bathing chamber of my personal chambers and scowled at the image. I couldn't tell her, especially after yesterday. I thought back to when I had visited Amelia last, when she was tending her niece. She looked so natural with a child, that in that moment, I couldn't in good conscience take away from her the possibility of a normal life; of a family in her own world. No matter how much I cared for her.

I set my hands on the counter, tapping a thoughtfully morose rhythm. There was no reason to concern her.

 _But it_ does _concern her..._ The thought came to mind.

I narrowed my eyes, mentally telling that thought to bugger off.

 _She's in more danger now than ever before. If_ they _found her, she could be killed-or worse, used for her gift._ My mind warned.

My eyes in the mirror flashed with panic, then anger followed. _"Be silent!"_ I growled aloud. My mouth opened in a snarl, reflecting my fury back at me in the mirror. I knew these thoughts were right, but they weren't helping the situation.

Thankfully my thoughts fell silent, and I found myself with a wrinkled brow and the beginnings of a headache. My wild blonde hair appeared statically charged, the tension of my thoughts causing my magic to affect my hair. "Blast it!" The growl made its way up my throat and out of my lips without restraint; but the vehemence of the words dried up at the end and turned instead into resignation.

It wasn't Amelia's fault-she'd had no idea.

She didn't know what she had done; the consequences of that one seemingly innocuous action. I made a face at myself. To her knowledge, certainly, it was harmless. But I knew better, and she was clever enough that she would likely discover the truth on her own.

 _Especially with how often the visits have become._

My face went scarlet, and I avoided my own gaze in the mirror. "Blast it all." I grumbled, too tired to really put much sincerity into the phrase.

Now rumors were spreading among the court and the council. 'The goblin king has taken a mystery bride', 'No one knows who she is, and _he's_ not saying.' I issued a derisive snort. Any monarch with half a brain knows the risks of others knowing the identity of a king's future intended. Particularly if the intended is not of high rank and well known. Even more so, when the intended happens to be mortal, and with no rank or familiarity with the courts.

The ring I'd given Amelia offered her considerable protection, and it had enough of a consciousness to inform me when she needed me, or when there was an issue that needed immediate addressing.

That ring had been partly to blame. It had bonded to her heart through her wedding ring finger when she'd switched it from one hand to the other; making it a part of her. She couldn't possibly have known what that action would cause. That by putting the ring I'd given her on her ring finger, Amelia had unknowingly initiated a marriage contract.

And because the ring was magic, it finalized that marriage contract without my consent; taking the fact that I'd given her a gift, and going one step further. The magic I'd put into the ring acted as though I'd truly proposed to her and she'd accepted. In my world, such a series of actions would render us instantly married.

With one unknowing act, Amelia and I had become husband and wife.

Seeing the ring there on her hand, that night in the park, had left me entirely stunned. I could see the contract magic like a golden halo around the ring on her hand-and how that halo had expanded to encompass her with a thin layer of magic like a second skin. Thinking back now, I realized I'd felt the marriage contract take hold while I'd been in the Underground. I hadn't recognized it. Instead I'd shrugged it off, assuming it was just a magical equivalent of a cold. It wasn't until the ring had alerted me that something was wrong, that I'd come Above and found Amelia in the park.

The contract had enacted a connection between us that I'd felt the closer to each other we came; and then I saw the ring, and understood. She'd already become aware of the ring's consciousness, and it didn't seem shy about communicating with her.

If Amelia and I had married through a mutual agreement, that fact would have been a good sign. But that neither of us had known about it, and the ring had still willingly allowed communication between her and itself, was unusual and hinted at something more.

A warm breeze from the nearby window brought with it the flowery scents of the garden and threads of moonlight. It was a soothing combination, and helped to ease away some of the tension I'd gathered in the muscles of my back and neck. I rubbed my face with my hands.

This whole ordeal was becoming exhausting.

Silently I willed the problem to be undone, that we could both be free. But it couldn't be, now-not to my knowledge-if it were possible, it would likely take a great deal of magic to manage such a feat. I knew I would have to consult someone with more knowledge of these contracts.

Which is how I came to be at the Faerie King Oberon's front door not long after I'd left Amelia in the park. I was too stunned, angry, and panicked to even think to watch over her when she went home. Oberon had not been able to help beyond a few cryptic remarks.

"Unless one of you dies, there is no way that I know of that will end your marriage contract." Oberon gave me a long discerning look, making me feel like a young fae child being scolded by his father. "Perhaps it is fated-something of this nature does not just happen on a whim. Not something as serious as a sealed marriage." He leaned back from his study desk into his chair. "I will look more into it, if you truly feel the match is ill-made. But be aware the remedy for it may well be far more unpleasant than the marriage itself." Oberon tilted his head forward pointedly, his eyes sparkling at the end of his remark with mild humor.

In the beginning when I'd discovered the hopelessness of the situation, I was furious and horrified. I'd left, feeling a war of emotions and an agonizing lack of satisfaction over the issue. Marriage without either parties having knowledge of the fact until it was too late was bad enough-but being forever magically _sealed_ together? That was something else entirely.

My only comforting thought now, was that we'd begun getting to know one another, making the idea of marriage to Amelia change from shocking, to bearable, and most recently to quite enjoyable. Amelia was kind, and yet fierce. She cared a great deal for others, her family in particular. It didn't hurt either that she was clever and lovely, and could wield a ready blade of wit.

It was strange, but her touch seemed to instill a deep calm; filling me with a strong reassurance that made me feel as though I were invincible. A warmth entered my heart at the thought of her. Something about her had created a powerful protective instinct within me, her presence calming to the point that _I_ felt calm when I was with her. It was surprising, and a pleasant change from my previously turbulent moods.

I found myself worried about her constantly. About her safety, her recently uncertain health, and whether she was happy or not. Once I'd only thought of myself in this business arrangement. Now, I couldn't stop thinking about her. It had been maddening in the beginning, having this worry pulling at me. It made working on my own, usual daily tasks harder because she was far away; and I'd hated that. I felt helpless at such a distance, and I hadn't even discovered why until that day in the park.

I'd noticed, too, how our connection had affected Amelia. Whether she was content or upset or unwell, a brush of my hand upon hers would cause her shoulders to fall and the tension of her body to relax away. Even the simple contact of my hand holding hers was reassuring enough to her, to allow her to fall into a peaceful slumber. That knowledge alone, was something that made me feel a measure of pride. Knowing that I was a source of comfort to my wife.

A smile danced upon my lips and my heart filled with warmth at the thought. _My wife_. Even though she was not yet aware of the facts, her reactions to me were good. With a little persuasion on my part, I would convince her to leave that prat Andrew, and instead come away with me.

 _'But is she willing? Does she feel for you, the way you feel for her? **Is it love?** ' _Uncertainty turned my lips from a confident smirk, into a wary frown, and I watched as that same confidence dancing in my eyes drained away to realization. Of course she'd need to love me! I thought in annoyed reproval of myself. Our affections needed to be mutual. And all along there was that question; the most important question.

 _'Does she love me?'_

Which brought me back to my original dilemma of the night. She didn't know about any of this. She didn't know-and in the beginning, I'd thought that I'd keep it that way. But now… I returned my gaze to the mirror, thoughtful. Now, I wondered. How, and when, would I tell her?

"My lord?" A muffled squeaky voice on the other side of the bathing chamber door broke through my musings, and I turned my head to the side to better hear it. "Yes? What is it?"

"E-Excuse me, my lord, it's just that his majesty, King Bachzuk is here." The goblin stuttered, but gained more confidence as he spoke. I scowled. What was Bachzuk doing here? And at such an early hour? I paused, thinking of his possible reasons as I answered. "Did he say why he was here?"

The image of Amelia asleep in my bed, being awoken by the guard's arrival came to mind, and I frowned. I'd have to find a way for the goblins to relay this kind of information to me _without_ waking Amelia… My thoughts trailed off as my tired mind caught up to them in alarm, and I realized that this was the first time since the passing of my dear wife and child, that I had thought of anyone this way. The image of Amelia peacefully slumbering in my bed still prominent in the forefront of my mind. 'What am I thinking?' I chastised myself. She was unlikely to end up there in the near future, and if it was something I truly wanted, then I had better begin plans for wooing her and pushing that ridiculous weakling Andrew out. Reluctantly, I banished the admittedly wonderful image of a sleeping Amelia away until it faded like smoke, and I focused on the present.

I could hear the goblin shrugging his shoulders, his breastplate and shoulder guards rattling with the movement. "He says," Here the goblin made his voice heavy with a foreign accent. "it is _'imper… imper-va-tive_ _that I speak to the king goblin'_." Out of instinct I raised a hand to pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling the headache already coming on, grow worse. "And here I thought I had only one immediate problem to deal with…" I grumbled, rubbing my face with both hands and exhaling deeply.

"...My lord?..." The goblin timidly questioned. He must've thought I'd been speaking to him, when really I'd nearly forgotten about him.

I lifted my voice to be sure he heard me. "Yes. Tell Bachzuk I'll see him." As a quick afterthought, I added. "Make certain he is taken to the throne room. I will meet him there." The goblin's armor rattled as he bowed, "Yes, my lord! As you say, my lord!" and he stomped away, my bedchamber doors shutting loudly behind him. I winced. Yes, if Amelia were to ever live here, there would need to be a few changes made. At the moment, I had more pressing matters to think about. Bachzuk's arrival, for instance.

I left my bathing chamber and finished dressing for the day, moving with haste. I didn't know if Bachzuk's arrival truly warranted the haste, or if he was just being absurd. In the end I embodied haste, hoping to get the ordeal over and done with. I'd chosen the throne room over the sitting room to remind Bachzuk who, exactly, he thought he was waking up. The throne room was a room meant to deal judgement, and King Bachzuk would get a firm reminder of that, should he be visiting for foolish reasons.

I didn't say as much to the goblin. He'd likely get confused and tell Bachzuk everything I'd said. _That_ was the reasoning behind the direction I'd given the goblin. Bachzuk was an ancient king-though outwardly he didn't appear to be so-he was ancient and spoke like one of those ancient kings of the past in their own nearly forgotten tongue. His common tongue was broken, despite how rumor had it that he truly spoke it well. It was a ruse used to put at ease those with loose lips who might imagine Bachzuk too lazy or old to learn the language. It was clever, but tiresome to those who knew his secret. I was one who found him particularly so. I had learned the ancient tongue since birth, being the language my forefathers had spoken and written their stories and spells and advisements for the Labyrinth in.

I made certain to wear one of my more ominous ensembles. All black without the faintest hint of sparkle. With Bachzuk, it was best to make clear my mood towards this unanticipated visit. Conjuring a crystal, I let it float just before me as I marched up the hall, studying the image inside.

Bachzuk was in the throne room as he should be, looking anxious and irritable as he paced before the pit, leaving it between himself and the foot of the throne. His coal black mustache and goatee were well manicured and streaked with silver due to his age. Faint wrinkles marred the corners of his eyes and mouth where they were currently set into a scowl. His eyes were so dark they might as well have been a pair of cavernous pits, and there was something about them that always made me just a touch uneasy.

I flicked my wrist as I turned up a narrow hallway that ran alongside the throne room, dispelling the crystal when I arrived at a single, simple door. Going inside, a small dark room greeted me, torches lighting each wall and casting midnight shadows over my attire. The wall to my right was entirely without torches, instead bands of stone like ribbons wove horizontally across it, curving out at intervals to create little stone pockets. The faint outline of a secret door in the wall could be seen from this side, but not on the other side. This stone was also magicked, and would look transparent if looked upon directly. I did so now, and through the wall I could see the throne room, the throne itself before the wall and to my left.

This room was meant as a means of escape should the king be unable to harness his magic and become cornered in the throne room. He had yet to use it for that purpose. Instead he used it to look in on those visiting that he did not trust. They always let things slip if they thought no one was listening. Bachzuk was no different, though in this instance he had no one to speak to, and remained silent. As Bachzuk turned his back on the throne, I gathered the proper amount of magic and at the right moment, I released it to transport myself into the throne room. I appeared on my throne, and I crossed my legs at the knees and leaned back. Resting my chin in one palm, I took on the appearance of being bored.

Bachzuk had yet to notice.

Growing impatient, I snapped at him. "Bachzuk, this had better be important."

Bachzuk jumped, then turned himself to face me. His crimson and gold robes, turban, and many jeweled necklaces swayed and sparkled in the light as he moved. His face wrinkled in apology, but I felt as though this expression was calculated, and without sincerity. His eyes especially lacked any kind of feeling. Something which would eternally make me wary of him. A man with eyes without a soul, is a man you should never want to know. For he has no regret or kindness or even anger. I'd heard stories of Bachzuk's predecessors in the desert land they had ruled. Stories of how each king sold their souls to a powerful djinn in order to gain what they wanted most.

From what I'd heard, Bachzuk had been a fumbling, foolish prince, who never achieved anything of great worth. Only when he became king, did he suddenly gain an unwavering confidence and capability, and achieve extraordinary feats. Even so, at times, I wondered if remnants of his soul didn't still reside inside him. I felt pity for that fumbling soul, but not enough to allow him to manipulate me.

Bachzuk inclined his head, even that being calculated, and gave an apologetic smile. He then asked me in his broken common tongue if we could converse in the ancient language. I waved my hand vaguely at him, pressing the untimely king to speak. He knew I knew the language. He looked relieved, and began to explain why he was here. "Lord Jareth, I apologize for the early hour. I had heard a rumor that unsettled me and I wished to take it up with you at once."

One curved eyebrow crawled higher on my forehead in disbelief. "A rumor. _That's_ what has brought you here so early?" I fought down both a sigh and the temptation to rub at my forehead with exasperation. He couldn't have at least waited until it was morning proper?

He nodded. "Yes. It most disturbed me, I felt I could not wait a moment more to disprove it."

"Yes, you said that." I replied with irritation. "What is this rumor that has you so concerned?" King Bachzuk hesitated.

"There is word that you have married in secret, and that your bride is far away in the mortal realm, and that she herself is a mortal." I tensed. _He knows Amelia is mortal!_ My thoughts sounded the alarm. _If he knows, then so do others who might do her harm to get to me!_ I felt the blood drain from my cheeks, and to hide my alarm, I casually curled my hand into a fist and grinned impishly. "Well, now, a mortal bride? Seems a bit unlikely, don't you think?" I gestured at our surroundings.

Uncertainty marred Bachzuk's features, though his soulless eyes stared me down. "Then is she of the fae?"

"I fail to see how any of this is of concern to you." My impish grin faded and I frowned at him. When was he going to get to the point?

Bachzuk's apologetic smile returned. "I had hoped to increase our trade and improve those routes between us. The best way to do that would be if my daughter, Sazbet, became your wife. She would be an intelligent asset to your court, and a worthy candidate to bear your heir. She is most beautiful, and called 'the shining jewel' by our people."

The color that had faded from my cheeks moments ago, returned with twice the swiftness. _The impudence!_ I thought in fury. I knew of his daughter, 'the shining jewel'. I'd only seen her once, and barely spoken to her. She seemed kind and intelligent, and certainly beautiful, and her fragrance was a blend of cinnamon and spices, her eyes like illuminated emeralds.

Amelia's own blue topaz gaze came to my mind, banishing Sazbet entirely. I remembered Amelia's own calming fragrance of jasmine, chamomile, and strawberries, and my heart sped up and grew warm. A faint smile started to tug at the corner of my lips before I remembered who I was with, and I managed to drop the smile. Bachzuk's own expression was strange as he stared at me, and I sat up straight, letting my hand drop down to the armrest. I scowled, and I retorted with an icy drawl. "I hope, Bachzuk, that you are joking. Otherwise I fear the impudence of your speech may bring you more harm than good. My wife-" My spirit soared a little higher at those two words. By the stars above, that felt wonderful to say! "-is none of your concern." Bachzuk's lips turned downward a margin and I went on. "If you have the desire to increase trade, I am willing to speak more on it-but not now." I added, to remind Bachzuk of the hour.

Bachzuk was silent a moment, contemplating. I thought perhaps he'd bow out, but he went on.

"You'll not even tell me her name?"

Fire flashed in my eyes, and I kept a firm scowl aimed at the king. Did he think I was a fool? That I would give him such information? _He's apparently desperate enough to burst into the castle unannounced to get it._ The thought came, and internally I frowned, considering it.

"No, I won't." My countenance darkened. "And the only name you will know her by, is _Her Majesty, the Goblin Queen_. We will not discuss the queen further." Uncrossing my legs, I made ready to stand and altered my tone to convey we were finished. "Bachzuk, if you have nothing more to speak of, then this audience will now come to a close." I came to my feet to press him either to speak, or make a swift retreat.

Bachzuk opened his mouth. "I have only one more question." I paused in stepping down from the throne. "Does it have anything to do with my wife?" Bachzuk hesitated, and his face became sheepish. "I merely wished to know when she would be presented at court? Everyone is eager to meet her, and knowing Oberon, he will likely wish to arrange a ball in her honor." My eyebrows raised slightly in surprise. That was the first decent thing he'd had to say about Amelia. I didn't believe it for a moment. The ball, yes, as Oberon loved celebrations, but it was more likely that 'everyone' was eager to tear her apart and exploit her every flaw. That, I would not allow.

I forced a gracious smile, though I matched Bachzuk in that it did not reach my eyes. "I have no doubt in Oberon's intentions. And only when the queen is ready, will she attend court." I descended the steps. "Is that all?" I asked. _Or are you going to continue to insult me and my wife?_ I thought waspishly. Bachzuk shook his head up and down and bowed perhaps an inch at the waist. "Yes, I am finished."

I nodded, waving a hand to open the throne room's double doors behind Bachzuk. "We will discuss trade at a later time." He said, and as the desert king moved to leave, I called to him. "And Bachzuk," I waited until I had his undivided attention. "anyone who means to do my wife harm, will find themselves a sudden enemy to the goblin state. I will not so easily forgive offenses towards her."

Almost unnoticeably, Bachzuk's face hardened. Stiffly he inclined his head, then spun round on his heel and marched away.

I watched him go, remaining where I was. Once he was out of sight, I allowed my false smile to fade, and my eyebrows lowered. This troubled me Backzuk knew of Amelia; suspected she was from the Above-who else knew of her? I glared after him. I would find out. "Baard," I snapped. "I need you!"

A young elf at four feet tall appeared before me. Baard was thin and wore an emerald, lightly sparkling jacket with a high collar. His trousers were tucked into his knee high boots. His long pointed ears came out from behind wild curly blonde hair. He appeared as a child to some, but his eyes were wiser than his appearance would suggest. This innocent looking young man was in reality one of the best spies I had ever known. "Your Majesty, how may I be of service?" He bowed at the waist with great respect.

I waved him up from his bow with impatience and with that same hand, gestured at the double doors. They swung closed almost silently, but Baard was in no way perturbed by the action. "I have need of you; though it may require a longer time away than usual. Are you willing?" Baard's easy features turned serious and he nodded. "I will do as his majesty commands. Speak your desire, and it is done." A measure of relief fell over me, and I flicked my wrist to create a transportation crystal. Tossing the crystal up, it reached its nadir and fell. As it fell it vanished, and both I and Baard vanished and were transported to my study. I wanted to avoid anyone following us to eavesdrop should we take the halls.

Once we arrived in my study, I went to the long shelves near the desk. "Good," Plucking a scroll from a shelf, I laid it out upon the desk, revealing a map of the whole of the Underground. "because we have quite the task ahead of us." I waved him closer, and we began planning Baard's mission.

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A/N: Please read and review with your thoughts, I love constructive criticism. And what do you guys think: Should Jareth tell Amelia about their little problem, or should he keep quiet about it? Review with your thoughts on the matter! Thanks! ^_^


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Chapter Fourteen! I hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth.

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A Writer Required

Chapter Fourteen

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After Bachzuk left and I had spoken to Baard to make our plans, I retired to my bedchambers. I hoped to salvage what remained of the night with sleep, and for the time being put away all thoughts of the odd audience with the desert king. I'd have plenty of other things to occupy my attention in the morning, and later that evening when Baard returned with his report. Once in my room, I stripped down to nothing but my trousers and my pendant in exhaustion, dropping clothing carelessly on my way to my bed. A flick of my hand rolled back the covers and I climbed in without wasting a moment more. I was asleep even as my head met the pillow.

I dreamed Amelia was there with me in my bed, sleeping peacefully, and safe by my side. The relief I felt at seeing her there was powerful, and without thinking, I reached out and gently pulled her closer. Amelia sighed in contentment, stretching within the circle of my arms before her body gradually relaxed. A smile lit my lips, and when I continued to pull her to me, Amelia blinked sleepily and smiled back at me. My heart warmed at the sight, and she surprised me by sliding up to me, though it felt natural for her to do so. Her hands rested upon my chest, and she tucked her head just beneath my chin. I wrapped my arms around her, feeling as though a weight had lifted from my shoulders, and relief replaced it. She was safe.

It seemed hardly any time had passed, when I felt an odd sensation that woke me. A faintly burning, searing pain. It pressed against my chest beneath my collarbone and beat like a mini, frantic heartbeat. I ignored it at first-for I would only get a few more minutes of peaceful slumber before the goblin chamberlain would descend upon me to wake me and remind me of matters of state once the sun arose. But the burning grew stronger, and I turned over onto my back to try and alleviate the discomfort.

Danger!

'Danger of what? Danger of earning my ire, is what.' I thought grouchily, my mind still too sleep ridden to really fully register where exactly the message was coming from, and why, it was so important.

Amelia!

That, earned my attention. My eyes snapped open, and my head lifted to stare down at the pendant. It glowed plaintively, trying hard to gain my attention. It certainly had it.

Amelia in danger!

I barely registered getting out of bed. I noted vaguely that I was redressing, but the majority of my attention was focused on the pendant and the feeling coming from it. Mentally delving further into its message, I translated it. It was from Amelia's ring, communicating to my pendant. Both objects had been crafted with the same metal, with similar magical properties, and a spell on them allowed us to communicate through them.

I mentally asked the ring where Amelia was. I noticed within the short time it had taken the ring to reply, that I had somehow managed to pull on my boots and a shirt and vest, both unlaced and unbuttoned. I was buttoning my vest when her ring replied. It conveyed to me that it was under water.

That Amelia was under water.

My heart jumped nastily, and I gave up on buttoning my vest. "Sod it!" I snarled. A twist of my wrist conjured a crystal. There was no time to lose; a transportation spell taking me directly to her was the best course of action. I threw it down and I felt everything shift as my surroundings grew dark. There was a tug behind my navel as though I were falling, and I breathed deeply to keep away the nausea. The temperature changed from pleasantly warm, to frigid, to cool, within a second.

I appeared in Amelia's kitchen by the table. The fire in the living room was near nonexistent, and the house uncharacteristically cool. I took everything in briefly. I was standing outside the door leading to her bathing chamber, which was currently open. The ring called to me, and I felt its magic drawing me into the chamber. The curtain for the bath was drawn, and my anxiety rose at what I might discover on the other side. With swift strides I went to the curtain.

Reaching out, I grasped the end of the smooth fabric and pulled it open, and my eyes fell downward upon Amelia's face.

She was paler than usual, and there were faint, dark circles under her eyes. She appeared to be sleeping, but I wasn't about to leave without being sure. I knelt down beside the tub and touched her cheek and neck gently with my hand. I breathed a sigh of relief when I felt her heart beating a normal rhythm. 'Just sleeping, thank the stars. She must have dozed off.' I thought, and nearly turned my gaze to her ring when I remembered her current state. Heat flooded my cheeks and I averted my eyes to the tile wall beside me in discomfort. If she were to wake now… I cringed at how mortified-and likely furious-she would be at me.

Instead of risking her fury, I sent a mental message to the ring, informing it that Amelia was, in fact, not drowning, but sleeping. The panic radiating from the ring faded, and was replaced with relief, and then embarrassment. A sheepishly timid apology was its response. I shook my head lightly, replying mentally that I was just glad she was alright. Though, I hoped now the ring had better learned the difference between a bath, and drowning. The ring affirmed that it did, and I was content.

I was about to stand when I felt a chill slip across my back. Glancing over my shoulder, the chill came again, and I noticed once more that the fire had died down to almost nothing. She'd catch her death if it wasn't built up again.

I waved a hand at the fireplace, and several of the extra logs sitting next to it rolled in a half circle and arranged themselves in a pyramid of sorts in the fireplace. Another wave stoked the embers and caused flames to rise up and wrap around the logs, getting the fire going again. I watched it a moment to be sure it could self sustain at that point, and satisfied that it could, I turned my gaze back to my wife.

I wondered how long she had been in there-if the water had cooled too much. I hesitated only a second, then carefully and without touching her, I reached between her arm and the tub edge to check the water's temperature. It was getting cold. I gathered magic and passed it through my fingers, warming the water until it was comfortable. I added a spell to keep it that way until it would go down the drain. Satisfied, I studied her face a moment more, then closed the curtain and came to my feet. Quietly I left the bathing chamber and retreated to the living room.

I was checking the fire when a knock at the front door drew my gaze to it. I glanced at the clock on the wall and frowned. It was nine thirty in the morning here in the mortal world-who would be visiting Amelia so early? My eyes narrowed at a thought. Could it be that spineless prat, Andrew? Drawing up to my full height, I went to the door and peered through the little glass hole there, meant for viewing the outside. My lip curled in disgust. Sure enough. The prat.

"Amelia?" He called, knocking on the door again. I made a face. He'd wake her up if he kept on with that hammering! I was tempted to answer the door and have words with him, but my hand hesitated above the handle. Our talking would likely wake and embarrass Amelia. I didn't want that. But he couldn't keep on as he was. I heard him sigh, grumble, then call again. "Amelia, my phone died and I left my charger at work. I'm just stopping by on my way there, to say dinner is still good. I'll see you tonight! I love you, Baby!" I sneered at Andrew's declaration of love, and his footsteps faded away as he left.

"...'Baby'?!" I hissed to myself with a silent snarl, my magic causing my hair to bristle. He had the audacity to call my wife 'Baby'! Disgusted, I moved away from the door, only to find myself pacing behind the couch. I doubted that Amelia found such an endearment charming. In fact, I knew she did not truly care for it. When Andrew had applied it to her some time back, she looked uncomfortable, not pleased. Andrew likely knew this, which meant he was disregarding her preference, and was publicly calling her by it, just as he did mere moments ago. I scowled. He was a cad as well as a prat!

If Amelia was to be called anything, 'Dearest', and 'My Love', were far more appropriate for her. That said; I certainly didn't want Andrew calling her such endearments. He had no right to.

A sound from the bathing chamber stirred me from my thoughts. I hurried to the kitchen, and only just stopped myself from going in to be sure she was alright. I wanted to give her space, but I wasn't ready to leave just yet. We needed to discuss a few things. I settled back on the bench placed at the kitchen table. Leaning against the table, I crossed my arms and legs, and waited.

"Crap…" I heard Amelia groan, and the water shifted as she sat up. I gave a start when she briefly turned the faucet on and then off, and she at last unplugged the tub. I felt the magic fading from the water as it drained, and the sound of moving water as she came to her feet. I heard her hand hit the wall and she sucked in an alarmed breath, and I realized belatedly that she must have slipped. I pressed my lips thin together in anger. Why had she been bathing this early? It was unlike her usual routine-or at least the routine I'd gathered from our days and conversations spent together. She wouldn't have fallen asleep if she'd bathed at her usual time. So why had she changed that now? The worry and anger ate at me, but I kept my seat with the intention of speaking to her about it. "Crap times two." Amelia grumbled in frustration, and I heard her towel slide free from its rack. There was a space of silence where I assumed she was drying.

There was a pause, then, "Well, triple crap." sounding quite frustrated now, she stepped out of the bath. A moment later Amelia appeared in the doorway of the chamber. The towel that wrapped around her was smaller than she likely intended, and it left a small slit up one leg. She was using another, smaller towel to dab at her still dripping hair. Amelia had closed her tired eyes at some point, and used her free hand to switch off the bathroom's light.

Stepping out into the kitchen, she was still towel drying her hair when she bumped into my folded knee. Her eyes opened, surprise making them wide.

"Jareth!" Amelia gasped. I rose an eyebrow. She'd clearly forgotten her state of dress, and I reminded her by making a point of lowering my gaze briefly to pass over her, head to toe and back again.

Her face brightened with color, making her look a little healthier than she had upon my first seeing her. But then Amelia turned and dashed back the way she'd come, and hid herself on the other side of the wall separating the two rooms.

"What are you doing here-?" Her voice was filled with indignation, but she stopped herself.

I waited.

I felt the tension between us lessen and she went on. "You were coming over to talk." She acknowledged quietly, but it was loud enough for me to hear. My eyebrows went up. I'd forgotten about our meeting. I shifted my weight on the bench and my eyebrows lowered again as I remembered the topic.

My previous wife and child.

My thoughts were interrupted when Amelia peeked around the wall at me, an apologetic grimace on her lips. "I'm sorry."

I fixed her with a reproving glare, and spoke as though discussing the weather. "The ring seemed to think you were drowning." The lack of sleep from the past night made my eyelids feel heavy, and I allowed myself to close them briefly. Leaning forward, I let my arms and legs unfold, and planted my elbows upon my knees. Taking a steadying breath, I laced my fingers together and opened my eyes, staring her down.

Amelia's eyes widened, and I continued. "Do you have any idea how I feel right now?" Amelia failed to respond.

"The ring thought you were dying." Amelia's stunned expression was what I'd expected. "Then I arrive here, to find you asleep in your bathing chamber." I took a moment to collect myself, and sat back up. "Explain yourself."

Amelia's face turned a rosy hue as she took in this information. Her attention passed from me to the ring. I could feel her silent, wordless question as she sent it to the ring. A powerfully sheepish reply came back in way of answer to her. I felt some satisfaction in seeing Amelia frown in disapproval at the ring. At least the ring had learned its lesson. Her frown faded and her once wrinkled brow eased as she looked up at me. "I'm sorry-I didn't know the ring would react to a bath like that." She waved her hand toward the front door, and I felt my anger fading as she further explained. "I worked a double shift and dozed off in the bath when I got home." She shrugged her shoulder lightly, apologetic. "I was really sore and tired, and I fell asleep."

I studied her standing there, contemplating my answer. She shivered, glancing past me to the fire and then to her bedroom door before her eyes fell again upon me. "I really am sorry, Jareth. But…" My anger flared back up. 'But'?

She hurried to finish. "...could you maybe go wait in the living room so I can get to my room, please?" I looked to my left where her bedroom door stood closed. My anger vanished, and I felt thoroughly ashamed of myself. Here I was keeping her out in the cold, and all she wanted was to get dressed.

I stood slowly so as not to startle her, and tugged lightly on the end of my vest. It was still sporting buttons in the wrong holes, surely looking comedic. But when she noticed the mayhem of my garb, she looked concerned, not amused. 'Best to put her mind at ease, then.' I thought.

"Very well." I declared, strolling with a purposefully haughty air to the doorway she occupied. Amelia held her breath, her cheeks flushing as she froze in place. My nose at our close proximity picked up her fragrance of sweet strawberries and enchanting jasmine. I detected a hint of soothing mint among the fragrance, and it lent a crisp, refreshing note to the pleasant mix. It suited her, I thought. She was sweet and soothing, and I was enchanted. My eyes fell briefly to her lips, and there was a moment where I wondered what it would be like to kiss her. Her quiet breath returned my attention to the situation, and I fought to keep my expression in check when I realized what I'd been thinking. Her eyes met mine as I spoke. "I will be in the living room."

That said, I turned round and retreated smoothly to the armchair I usually occupied, hoping to heaven that she had not seen the color I felt currently filling my cheeks. I had been thinking of kissing her! I felt her eyes on the back of my head, and I kept quite still to reassure her that I would stay that way. I noticed the fire was low again, and with a frown I waved my hand subtly at it, and the flames grew back to their natural state. I almost missed the sound of her feet as she flew to her room, but I heard her less hurried steps when she was on her way back to the bathing chamber. The chamber's door shut and I heard a muffled, "Thank you!" from the other side. I chuckled in amusement, though did not reply.

Amelia returned not long after, wearing a loose hooded sweater and sleeping trousers with little owls on them. Her hair was still wet, glistening in the combined light from the fire and the nearby window. Her cheeks were still touched with color, though not as much as before. She entered timidly into the room, looking self conscious, "Hi… Thank you for waiting for me." she said, then stepped with care past me. She sank down to sit cross legged before the fire, then turned herself to face me. I remained in my seat, arms and legs folded. Amelia swept her hair forward to hang over one shoulder, and tilted her head toward the fireplace. This exposed a large portion of her neck to my eyes, and I took it in a moment, thoughtful. It was an innocent gesture, unknowingly having an effect. An effect on me. Amelia began gathering up and then releasing her hair in her hands to help it dry, and I focused once more on her eyes.

The dark circles there remained, despite her brief rest and bath. Her face was pale again, the blush having faded away. It upset me to see Amelia this way. To know she was unwell, and that I could do little about it. It was incredibly frustrating. She couldn't keep on like this, especially with how her health had been. It was still a rough road, though she tried to hide it from me. I could see it in the exhaustion behind her eyes and the sluggish manner in which she walked. I frowned to myself. She needed to pace herself, not work herself to death.

Hesitation like a delicate cloud hung tentatively around Amelia. At last she dispersed it, and her eyes flit up to meet mine. "I didn't mean to fall asleep-"

"Why did you accept?" I questioned, and in seeing her confusion, I went on. "You worked longer hours than usual, despite the fact you are still recovering and should be resting." Amelia's confusion vanished, and guilt replaced it. She dropped her gaze, avoiding my own, and worked more intently on drying her hair. Already a few strands of her golden locks had begun taking up their natural ringlets.

She responded without looking at me. "I still have to pay bills, Jareth. I can't stay home every time I get sick. If I can function, I can work." With that said, Amelia ruffled her curls harder than before, and she suddenly winced. Pain that was more than just from tugging on her hair, lanced across her face.

Amelia touched her head tenderly with her fingertips. I could tell by her expression that the pain was increasing. A look of frustration added to her pained wince, saying without words just how tired she was of this illness. I was about to ask if I could help in some way, when she caught me looking at her.

I frowned when Amelia again avoided eye contact. Was she in more pain than she let on? If she needed something, she had but to ask. But that was the problem. She didn't often ask, even if she was in considerable pain. I would have to keep a closer eye on her, if that was the case.

She kept on with drying her hair, though moving with more care, and she began to lightly twirl locks of her hair to manage the curls. I didn't understand this action; I had observed that her hair curled fine if let to dry on its own. The wildness of her untamed curls was fitting for her feistier side.

That said, I did not appreciate that feisty attitude extending to matters of her health. In that matter, I would rather have some honesty and compliance.

Frowning severely, I replied in reprimand. "You are not a machine." Was she trying to kill herself? My wife pursed her lips in clear consternation at my words. She put her attention fully on her hair and turned from me to face the fire. "You cannot treat yourself like one." I added.

"I don't." She shrugged. "I know when I need to rest. I take breaks." She paused, and a warm smile spread across her lips. My eyebrows rose and then fell at this sudden change. What was she smiling about? I lifted one eyebrow in silent question when I caught her eye, and she explained. "My coworker Marcus is like a big brother to me, and he makes sure I take breaks. So you don't need to worry."

But I did worry. Especially when she kept on smiling and then hummed a brief trill of notes to herself as she dried her hair. Did I have to worry about another prat? My inquisitively raised eyebrow turned into a suspiciously raised eyebrow. "How generous of him." I drawled dryly.

Amelia failed to notice the change in my countenance, and she further explained. "Marcus knows as much as anyone-if not more than anyone-how stress ridden this job can be."

'Marcus'?

Bugger.

Amelia's smile fell, and I found I missed it, regardless of the source that caused it. "I nearly quit my job entirely, at one point." Amelia's voice fell quiet, and she brushed her sweater sleeve lightly over her tired eyes and took a deep breath as though to steady herself. "Anyway, that's not really important now." She yawned, covering her mouth with her hand and blinking rapidly when the yawn caused her eyes to water.

I felt more at ease now the topic had changed. Perhaps this 'Marcus' really was like a brother to her. Knowing what Amelia's employment was, I was suddenly glad that she had someone nearby to make certain she was safe and to remind her to not overwork herself.

Amelia's brow wrinkled, showing she was briefly lost in thought, and then she turned to me. "The other day you mentioned that you had a wife and son?" Apprehension coursed through me, and my expression hardened. "What happened to them?" She was hesitant to ask, but the concern in her eyes caused my defenses to begin to crumble. Blast those eyes! I took a moment to collect myself and gather my thoughts. I wanted to be quick. Talking of my previous wife and child was difficult and distinctly painful, no matter how many years had passed. It was a topic that sent me in circles, and gave me no answers. I since learned not to dwell long in memories I could now do nothing about.

I began with effort. "I will tell you what I can-but understand that there are some things I am not yet willing to share." I had to make it clear she might not hear everything all at once. I was uncertain so far in what I would be able to tell her.

Amelia nodded her head to show she understood, and further proved it by word. "I understand."

Taking a deep breath, I dove in. "I met my wife through chance." I moved my gaze away from the fire and Amelia, to a painting of the sea that hung on the wall. I felt Amelia's eyes on my face as I spoke. "She was soon pregnant, and the baby was born. We were happy."

It took effort to work out my next words. "Just over a year had passed. My wife and child were traveling to an outlying city where she was to visit her brother." I felt a lump forming in my throat, and I blinked to keep my tears at bay. Pursing my lips, I placed my hand over my mouth and focused hard on the painting as I spoke. "I had been so preoccupied by my duties at that time…" I took a breath to steady myself. "On their way, the carriage was attacked." My jaw clenched, and in my mind's eye, I remembered seeing the burned remains of the carriage, and the horror, anguish, and rage I felt upon finding my wife Tasha, and our son Teren, lying murdered upon the ground.

At length I continued, finding the words difficult. "It was suspected that a group of raiders attacked the carriage. My wife and child were killed." A quiet gasp of horror pulled me back to the present, away from the memories. Amelia's expression when I saw it was shocked and horrified. My emotions turned tumultuous in seeing her like that. Would it be wise for me to continue? Or would it be best to stop? In the end, Amelia made my decision for me when she next spoke.

"Were the raiders caught?" She questioned, looking quite serious. She truly wanted to know, wanted to help. My shoulders fell at the question, for the answer still haunted me.

"No." I said, and I shifted my weight in my seat, discomforted by the fact. "The raiders were never found, and I've wondered a long time if it was truly a random act of violence, or if someone had planned it; if perhaps the murder of my young family had been schemed for someone else's political gain."

Amelia appeared simultaneously nauseous and furious at once, but her nausea gave way to a thoughtful look, and I could tell she was working something out. Perhaps she had some insights into the matter. I found it difficult to decide if this pleased or distressed me. I worried that bringing her knowledge of this might somehow cause her harm, and that thought alone gave me pain.

Amelia looked as though she were about to speak, and hesitated. Her astute blue eyes took in my countenance, and she seemed uncertain. In that moment, a powerful, inexplicable desire to know what she had to say, overpowered every other thought in my mind. If anything, it was a new perspective to consider.

At last, she asked. "What did your wife and child have, that someone else might have wanted?"

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A/N: So, what did you think? Leave me a note with your thoughts!


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Chapter fifteen! I must give credit where credit is most definitely due! I want to give a shout-out to the fantastic LovelyAmberLight, who has helped me bring this story together, inspired me, and been a great soundboard and helped me fix problems where they arose. I can't thank her enough, and she deserves a great amount of thanks. So: Thank you, LovelyAmberLight, you're amazing.

Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth.

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Pie Situation

Chapter Fifteen

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Jareth fell silent after my last question, the wheels of his mind turning behind his eyes. l waited for a response, and at last he offered one. "There's a desert king in my world, who has a daughter he's previously offered to me as a bride." I slowed in drying my hair, raising an eyebrow at him. I couldn't decide if I was amused or annoyed. Jareth must not have cared much for her, for he went on after he mentioned her. "He says it's in hopes of increasing trade; but the man's sold his soul to a djinn, and you should never believe anything a soulless man says."

My other eyebrow followed the first. Selling your soul to a djinn? I shuddered. "Whoa. That sounds like a really, really terrible idea." I had some knowledge of djinns. I knew that they were forms of genies. But the similarities ended there. Djinns were malicious and cruel and twisted your words, turning your wishes into nightmares. I offered an example. "So, basically, you could wish to never have to eat again, and you'd get trampled to death by a herd of buffalo." I then spoke in an imitation of an announcer's voice. "Congratulations! You never have to eat again!"

Jareth laughed outright and I smiled to hear it. I liked seeing him laugh; and it made me want to find more funny things to say, just to hear him laugh again. "But seriously, Jareth..." I began, holding up a hand as though to stop him, waiting for his eyes to meet mine. "Never let me wish for a mountain of gold-I'd really hate to have to buy a new wardrobe." I picked doubtfully at my sweater sleeve. "I mean, honestly, I don't think they make paper doll clothes my size." He laughed again, and my smile grew before I returned my thoughts to what he'd said before. My smile faded, and I waited until his laughing had died down to speak.

"Jareth?" I asked, and he hummed a response as he sat back down in the arm chair. I shifted my legs up until I could wrap my arms around them and rest my chin on my knee. Jareth watched me, waiting, and I asked my next question. "When a djinn takes someone's soul, does that person still make their own choices, or does the djinn control them?" Jareth cast an eyebrow up thoughtfully.

"From what I understand, if a soul is sold, most djinns only give that wisher one particularly powerful wish. This desert king, for example." He waved a hand as he explained. "He used to be a cowardly wretch who never amounted to anything. But shortly before he took power in his kingdom, he changed." My brow furrowed just before I turned my back on Jareth to dry my hair on the other side of my head. I replied quickly so he wouldn't think I'd suddenly become disinterested in what he was saying. "How so?" I asked. Jareth paused, and I felt his eyes on my back a moment before he went on. "He went from someone who had amounted to nothing, to someone who did great things. He accomplished more in his short reign than many of his predecessors before him had in their much longer time upon the throne."

"Then the djinn doesn't control them; he just gets the soul at the end?" I queried, and Jareth responded. "Sometimes a djinn will even trick the wisher, so that he gets their soul sooner." I nodded. "Ok, taking a step back to the desert king. He wanted you to marry his daughter, which I'm guessing you said no to." Jareth's reply sounded amused. "Your guess would be correct." I continued working on my hair. I took a breath before turning toward the fire and facing Jareth. "Could it be the desert king was angry that you didn't choose his daughter, so he had your wife and child killed?"

Jareth offered a response. "It's not uncommon for such things in my world-or yours, I'm afraid." He went on. "I was wondering the same thing before. If, out of his anger at me and his desire for power, he had Tasha and Teran killed." My brow furrowed at the same time my headache flared, and I stopped working on my hair to press my fingers to my forehead. "...Tasha and Teran?... Your wife and son, right?..." I was starting to feel dizzy. This headache seriously needed to stop-

Jareth's familiar, entrancing scent was abruptly quite close. The faint creak of the floorboards alerted me he was near, and I felt the air shift and swirl as he crouched down before me. Then with a tenderness I'd come to expect from his past care, his hand delicately touched my face. His fingers on one hand gently swept my own hand away, holding it in his upon my knee, and his other hand he raised to press his fingertips to my forehead. Almost at once I felt at peace, and my breathing steadied. His palm moved to rest against the side of my face, and for a moment I thought I might doze off.

"Careful," I murmured. "I might just fall asleep if you keep that up." Jareth chuckled warmly at my warning. "I'll keep that in mind." He kept his hand there a little longer, asking. "Where else do you have pain?" I didn't want to open my eyes; it was incredible not being in pain, and a small part of me worried that if I opened my eyes, I would be in pain again. That thought made me realize I didn't want to open my eyes, because my eyes themselves had been aching. The pressure had been pushing on them.

In discovering this, I frowned. "My eyes hurt… the pressure is pushing on them." Jareth hummed, then explained. "I'll need to touch your face, just beneath your eyes to help." I felt his pause in the air, waiting for my reply.

"Ok."

Jareth's thumb was cool and smooth when he touched my face under first one eye and then the other. The cool spread up over my eyelids like a breeze and soaked into the skin like sunlight. "How did you learn healing magic? Is it something all Fae can do? Or is it something that needs specific training? How much can you heal before you have to stop?" Jareth chuckled softly, and his cool breath brushed my face, sending an unexpected shiver over me. "So many questions." He tutted, though he spoke with fondness.

"You won't answer them?" I asked, crestfallen, and my shoulders sank. Jareth hummed in the negative. "I never said that. I was remarking on your insatiable curiosity. You need never fear asking me questions. And, if you do…" He trailed off a moment. "Well, I'll tell you if your curiosity becomes too much, Little Kitten. Have no fear of that." I don't think I ever blushed so much, so quickly. 'Little Kitten?' I thought, feeling suddenly warm all over. I frowned. What was wrong with me? I cleared my throat and replied. "Ok." I hesitated a moment, mulling over a thought. At last I warily asked, "...That nickname isn't going to become a thing, is it?" and Jareth just laughed.

Gradually the pressure on my eyes eased away, and I waited until the pain had gone completely to open them. I breathed easier in relief. "Thank you, Jareth."

His expression softened with warmth. "Of course, Amelia. You'll be alright now." He reassured, and a small smile lit my lips. The way he smiled caught my attention. In the beginning when we first started working together, it had been a condescending expression. But now it was different. It was genuine and sincere. Real.

"Well, then. Perhaps I should be going. You need your rest…" He began, but I shook my head at him, my heart beating an unpleasant rhythm. I didn't want him to go! "No, I'm doing better now. We can work on your story."

To prove to him that I was well enough, I squeezed his fingers lightly where they were wrapped pleasantly around mine. I'd almost forgotten he had been holding them. It seemed so natural, and I found myself only marginally embarrassed. More than anything, though, I thought about how wonderful a sensation it was to have such an intimate action between us seem so natural. I climbed carefully to my feet, still holding his hand. "See?" I told him. "Much better."

His hand remained with mine, and after a moment's hesitation, he stood and gently released me. "Very well." I beamed when he agreed, then gestured for him to sit while I retrieved my laptop. The sound of peaceful wind chimes and bird calls came from my room, from my phone. Jareth's brow furrowed in bewilderment, and I apologized. "Sorry, that's my new text tone. Just a second, I'll check it." I placed the laptop on one end of the couch and swept past Jareth. I came back with the phone and its charger in hand, reading the text on the way.

"Andrew

Hey Amelia, I'm just letting you know we're still good for dinner tonight."

I winced. I'd forgotten about our dinner date! I read on when a second text arrived with a "boop!".

"Andrew

I dropped by your place earlier to let you know, but you didn't answer. Are you ok?"

I slowed in walking, not far from Jareth. Andrew had come by? I glanced up at the back of Jareth's head and did a double take. His hair looked darker than usual. More a dirty blonde. Come to think of it, I realized his eyes were different as well, and it made me wonder if he was showing his true self. His one blue eye had become darker, looking more an earthy brown like his brown eye was. Another text from Andrew pulled my attention to it.

"Andrew

Text me when you get this so I know that you're ok. Love you, Babe."

I grimaced at the pet name. I really needed to convince him to come up with a new one. I wasn't a baby, and I didn't appreciate being called one. I quickly texted back that I was fine, that I'd been asleep. He responded that he was glad everything was ok. I heaved a sigh, and started when Jareth's voice spanned the distance to me. "Something wrong?" I looked up, my eyes confirming that his own had really changed colors. His eyes were definitely a matching rich, soil brown color. They took my breath away to look at them, and Jareth's brow furrowed as he prompted me. "Amelia. Are you well?"

He came to his feet, and my cheeks felt hot in embarrassment. I'd been standing there ogling him, and the poor man thought I was unwell! I swallowed and looked away, quickly replying before he could reach me. "I'm fine. Sorry, I was thinking about something." I offered a small vague gesture. He didn't seem to quite believe me, but he nodded. I went on. "Andrew just texted me. He said he came by earlier?..." I trailed off when Jareth's upper lip curled in disdain at the mention of my boyfriend, and he stiffly folded his arms. "...What?" I asked. "Did he come by while I was asleep?" I guessed, and Jareth's gaze hardened and turned dark.

"He did. I did not answer the door, nor did I speak to him. I doubted very much either you or he would appreciate the conversations that would have followed." The pink faded from my cheeks as I realized he was right, and I played out in my mind what would have happened. 'Oh my gosh.' I thought in horror. 'Andrew would've been furious! And Jareth…' I studied the goblin king. 'Jareth would not take an angry, yelling Andrew well.' The thought of a fight between them occurred to me and I immediately squashed it, horrified and cross at the thought. 'Absolutely not! I'd throw them both out!' Then I realized that I couldn't. I would have woken up, naked and freaked out as to how the two men had gotten into my home in the first place. I'd have come out in a towel to tell them to leave, which would only invite more angry words from Andrew. Not a good situation.

"You're right." I admitted at last, and Jareth's dark gaze lightened. "It's unlikely it would have ended well. So, thank you. You probably saved our relationship." The dark look returned, and Jareth stoically scowled at me. I could practically hear him saying, "That wasn't the point." and I shrugged sheepishly at him. "Anyway, we should probably get started." I walked swiftly past him into the living room, and began to get set up. He followed me a moment later, still scowling, and sat in his seat.

Jareth eventually lightened up, even smiling a little while we worked together to construct his story. He didn't call me Little Kitten again, so I took it as a good sign that I hadn't asked any terribly sensitive questions yet.

At one point I continued writing, but lifted my attention from the laptop screen to watch Jareth's face as he told me more of his life. I noticed something off. Something odd. I had noticed before that every once in awhile, the way Jareth would tell his story, changed. It was odd because instead of the words flowing with a pause now and then; he'd take a little longer to form what he wanted to say. It was almost as if he were writing in new parts into his own story. I didn't understand this; it seemed peculiar. I thought about asking him, but he looked so focused and serious, that I was hesitant to interrupt. I kept it in mind, to ask him at a later time.

We worked for quite a while, and eventually Jareth left. Later that afternoon I prepared for my date with Andrew, excited for a relaxing night out. Andrew promptly arrived, and we were off.

We soon arrived at my favorite restaurant. It was a little Italian hole-in-the-wall called Bocelli's, owned by true Italians. The owners were a couple who had moved here several years ago, and I had for a short time dated their son, Michel. I had met him when I'd gone abroad for two years to Italy for school, which turned out to be less academic than I'd intended. Mainly because I couldn't tear my eyes away from the gorgeous green italian countryside and white stone architecture. Michel and I were just good friends now. His father reminded me of my dad with his sense of humor and kindness, and the way he seemed always to be smiling. His mother was very loud and spoke only in Italian. I'd learned some Italian on my trip, but more especially when Michel and I had been dating. It made it so I could speak with her, and she was really a very sweet woman, if a little nosey. Although, what mother isn't, right?

We came in through the double doors and were greeted by the smell of baking bread. It took me back to memories of walking outside bakeries in Italy. It was always a nostalgic fragrance. Andrew and I stepped through a small, wide corridor, to a large sitting area. The walls were painted with images of the Italian countryside, villas and vineyards, and romantic sunsets. I smiled up at Andrew, and feeling the romantic mood set in, I had a brief vision of the two of us married, honeymooning in Florence, Italy. 'Maybe we could rent a little villa somewhere, stay there for a week or so…' I thought dreamily. It was such a happy thought, and Andrew smiled warmly back down at me. I hadn't bothered to look around at the other patrons when we came in, but now I looked round as we were finding a place to sit.

That was when I saw him. I slowed in my steps, my eyes growing wide. It was Jareth in his human guise! Sitting at a booth designed for several people, with a beautiful human woman sitting across from him. They were deep in discussion. Was he on a date? In surprise, I felt my stomach turn with jealousy, and I felt a little sick. What was the matter with me? I moved to continue on and give them their privacy, when Andrew stopped me. He was looking at Jareth and his date with an odd look in his eye. He looked at me a moment, and seemed to make a silent decision. Putting a smile on his face that didn't quite feel sincere, Andrew walked us towards them.

My heart jumped nastily. What was Andrew doing? Before I could protest, Andrew took hold of a chair at a table for two and pulled it with us across the tile floor. The chair's feet must have been padded, for it never made a sound. I hissed at Andrew. "What are you doing?" My boyfriend sent me a sideways look that made me feel distinctly uncomfortable. Was he jealous? Andrew kept on walking but replied. "I think we should say hello. Maybe he'll introduce us to his mystery girlfriend." My face went beet red in mortification, and Andrew faced Jareth.

We arrived abruptly at a lull in their conversation when the woman was taking a sip of water from her glass. She really was beautiful. With wise emerald eyes, ivory skin, and midnight hair. She seemed familiar, and I felt as if I should know her. Andrew let go of my hand, and I felt awkward standing next to him as he set the chair down firmly between Jareth and his date at the table. With where Andrew was seated, he blocked half the aisle with his chair, and was halfway between the couple before us, the small candles at the center of the table across from him. He then planted himself in the seat as if settling in to stay. Jareth and his date looked up in surprise, seeing both me and Andrew. I felt Jareth's eyes on my face, could see him looking at me out of the corner of my eye. I don't think I've ever felt more embarrassed or more mortified than I did in that moment. I felt numb. Quickly I hissed to Andrew. "Andrew, come on. We need to leave them alone!"

Andrew ignored me and I frowned at him. I turned instead to Jareth, my face burning terribly. "I'm so sorry, we're interrupting your date." I looked between the Fae king and his date, and Jareth's eyebrows rose marginally as I turned to convince Andrew again that we needed to leave. "We'll go now." I told my boyfriend, putting emphasis in it, but Jareth's smooth voice interceded graciously. "Not at all. You're welcome to join us." He shot Andrew a brief look before his eyes again fell upon me, turning gentle. Jareth slid sideways in the booth, giving me room to sit beside him. "Please," He said, patting the space with his hand. I hesitated briefly, then sat beside him, murmuring a thanks. Jareth smiled and put his arm gently around my shoulders. "Of course. Don't worry." He squeezed my shoulder lightly, his thumb dancing over the ruffled fabric of my sleeve where it ended at my shoulder.

I felt myself beginning to relax, until I caught Andrew's eye and tensed. He did not look at all pleased. The woman now sitting across from me smiled a little at me. "That's a lovely dress you're wearing." She said sincerely, and I offered a timid smile in return. "Thank you. It's one of my favorites." Jareth smiled at me before gesturing at his date. "Forgive me, I failed to introduce you. This is Sarah Carmichael. Sarah, this is Amelia."

'Sarah Carmichael?' I thought, but the last name threw me at the same time that I realized who she was. Sarah Carmichael-formerly Sarah Williams? It had to be her. She certainly wasn't Jennifer Connelly, but the similarities were there. Why was he on a date with her? Sarah extended a hand for me to shake in greeting, and I pulled myself out if my thoughts to take it. "Glad to meet you, Amelia." She said warmly, and I nodded belatedly. "Nice to meet you as well."

As we shook hands, Jareth raised his free hand to flag down a waiter, and one approached. I immediately recognized him. It was my old boyfriend, Michel. A grin spread across my face and Sarah and I released hands and I spoke to him. "Michel! Ciao, come stie?" The waiter did a double take and grinned back at me, and looking between me and the goblin king, he responded cheerfully in greeting, saying he was good, and asked me how I was. "Amelia, ciao! Sto bene. Come stie, mio bella?"

"Sto bene." I replied that I was good. Michel was only a couple inches taller than myself, with curly black hair that reached his chin, and dark sapphire eyes on a lightly tanned face. In seeing the group's quizzical expressions, I explained. "Michel and I dated for a while when I was in Italy for school." I shrugged, and missed the looks on the faces of the men at the table. "Michel, this is Jareth, Sarah, and Andrew." I pointed everyone out as I spoke. Jareth and Sarah greeted Michel easily, but Andrew was a little less enthusiastic. Michel returned the greetings with a nod at us as a whole. "Pleasure to meet you." He glanced over his shoulder, then spoke to me. "Eh, hold on, my mother will want to know that you're here." I got as far as opening my mouth to say it wasn't necessary, but before I could say a word, Michel had turned away and was calling in Italian back to his mother in the kitchen. Then at the end he added. "E la tua bella, Farfalla!"

I went scarlet and ducked my head, and looking at a grinning Michel, I asked. "Does she really still call me that?" Michel's grin widened. "Of course! You are still Mamma's Butterfly." I did catch the two men's expressions this time. They wore identical looks of displeasure. Were they-jealous? I wondered. Michel spoke again, "Actually," he leaned forward conspiratorially, and Andrew eyed the shortening distance between us with growing discomfort. "I think she'd prefer you over me, except that I can lift all the heavy boxes in back." I replied with mock seriousness. "Well, then, I think you're safe." Michel chuckled. "Thank you for your vote of confidence, that makes me feel much better." I laughed.

"Right. What'll it be today?" Michel asked cheerfully, and started handing out menus. As he did, Jareth began casually, softly playing with the end of my short ruffled sleeve where it ended near the top of my shoulder. I took in a shocked breath and turned and stared at him, but after a moment of him looking at my face-and especially my mouth-he looked away, and addressed Michel about wine selections. My cheeks darkened.

I caught Michel studying us, a small smile on his face. Andrew did not smile. From the kitchen behind him, a thin woman with shoulder length black curly hair and sapphire blue eyes wearing a dress and flour dusted apron appeared. Upon seeing me, she smiled widely and approached our booth. "Farfalla! Come stie?" She looked at Michel then with a frown and swatted his arm. "Michel, va a prendere il pane e il vino!"

Michel ducked his head sheepishly. "Sì, Mamma!" Smiling at us, Michel excused himself. "I'll be back with some bread and a bottle of wine." He turned away, but before he left, he murmured something briefly to his mother. She looked at Jareth and I with interest and a "meddling mother" smile that made her eyes sparkle, and made me wary. Michel then vanished to the kitchen, and Mamma Bocelli brought her attention back to me and Jareth. She pointed at Jareth, asking who he was. "Quindi, Farfalla, chi è questo?" I gestured a hand at him, internally suspicious of her smile as I introduced Jareth. "Questo è Jareth." Mamma Bocelli smiled at him with a welcome. "Benvenuto, Jareth." I forgot for a moment that Jareth likely didn't understand her, but when I looked at Jareth to translate for him, he was smiling as though pleased, and he replied in perfect Italian. "Grazie, Signora Bocelli." Mamma Bocelli was at first surprised, but she then beamed. They chatted together a moment in Italian, and Andrew's expression over the course of their short exchange began to sour.

Jareth kept his arm about my shoulders, his fingers occupied by the small ruffles there. I kept finding it difficult to breath at times, and I was certain my cheeks were quite red. Signora meanwhile kept an eye on us through the conversation.

Michel returned with fresh bread and a chilled bottle of wine, and before she left, Mamma Bocelli happily congratulated Jareth, though I didn't know why, and I didn't get the chance to ask. But I didn't think they'd been talking about anything that warranted thanks. Michel had brought an additional two glasses for me and Andrew, then took our orders. While waiting for my turn as Michel went around the table, I tilted my head towards Jareth. I held up my menu slightly so my words would be muted. "I'm sorry again for this, we've ruined your nice date." I apologized, pretending to study the menu.

Jareth stopped in looking at his menu to echo me by tipping his head down. But instead of studying the menu, he studied me. "Nothing is ruined, Dearest. If anything, the night has been rendered more pleasant than before." My eyes widened at him, and I knew my cheeks must be quite red. "O-Oh?" I breathed in question. Jareth's smile was warm and reassuring. "Yes, Little Kitten." I half glared at him, though a smile played at my lips. "That's never going away, is it?" I deadpanned. Jareth just smiled peacefully, taking a deep breath as he raised his head and eyebrows and turned his attention to his menu. "Not a chance."

I huffed quietly, to which Jareth smirked, and I caught Andrew watching us as Michel asked me if I was ready. Jareth and I gave him our orders, then handed him our menus. "Great, I'll be back in a little while." He said, and disappeared to the kitchen.

A few moments of conversation passed, in which Andrew contributed very little, despite my attempts to engage him in conversation.

At one point Jareth had told us a joke, and Sarah and I laughed. We were silenced, however, when Andrew spoke. "You're so funny. Maybe you should join the circus." I stared at Andrew. What was wrong with him tonight? Jareth smiled as if he hadn't just been insulted, and instead he smoothly replied. "I'm sure they could always use another clown for the human ladder, but I'm quite content dealing with my own circus. I know the monkeys, you see." Sarah laughed, for she understood the truth of the joke. I giggled, attempting to hold back a laugh and not entirely succeeding, so I ducked my head.

When I looked up, I felt suddenly worried. Andrew's face would put a cherry to shame, and he fixed his eyes on Jareth's. "How lucky for you. But then you seem like the type that would have to lay around with a few monkeys to actually get anywhere." Andrew jerked his head at Sarah as he said 'monkeys'. Sarah gasped in outrage at the insult, and I in shock.

But our reactions dwarfed in comparison to Jareth's. Never, in the short time I'd come to know him, had I ever seen Jareth so silently furious. The room turned suddenly cold, and I shivered despite Jareth's warm arm still being wrapped around my shoulders. Sarah's eyes grew large, and she looked really truly frightened by the change. "Never," Jareth began, and I felt as if I could see the icicles hanging off of his next frigid words. "ever, insult Sarah. You know nothing about her, and you have no right to speak in such a way towards her." Andrew's face seemed to reverse colors, and instead he began very quickly to pale. "Only a coward would treat a woman in such a manner. Though in seeing how you treat Amelia, with so little regard for her feelings or her opinions, I realize now I should not be surprised."

Andrew's expression was murderous. He hissed, "You…!" and at the same time a dessert trolley going by caught his attention, I noticed Michel and his parents emerging from the kitchen with our food. Michel smiled at me before his brow furrowed and he looked toward Andrew. His eyes grew wide in alarm and he called out to me, "AMELIA!" at the same time that I heard Sarah shout. "NO!"

I turned to her, wondering what was wrong, and warm and lumpy blackberry pie hit me square in the face.

I yelped, and the smooshed pie and pan slipped off my face, onto my lap, and then flipped over onto the ground. My jaw dropped. Pie dripped down my face and slowly saturated my hair. I'd spent a solid hour on my hair alone to get ready for this date-and it was ruined. Without thinking, I looked down to assess the damage of my dress. A gasp escaped me as more blackberry pie dripped down off my head and face and landed on my lap, surely staining my white dress. "What...?" I sat quite still, my voice breaking, and those in the restaurant immediately around us became quiet.

"Farfalla!" I heard Michel's mother before I saw her. She rambled off in angry italian to Michel and her husband, the latter who approached Andrew, helping him to his feet. "H-Hey! What are you doing?" Signore Bocelli spoke in broken English, loud enough for the table to hear him. "I take out trash. Scusami." Faster than I thought possible, Signore Bocelli escorted a furiously protesting Andrew out of the restaurant.

Mamma Bocelli helped me stand to take me to the back to get cleaned up, issuing orders to Michel to mop up the pie. I heard Jareth saying to Sarah as I left. "I apologize, Sarah. This was not how tonight was meant to go…" Sarah interrupted him kindly. "I understand. It wasn't your fault." I felt my heart sink. We'd completely ruined their date.

Signora ushered me into the kitchen, to the very back where a separate area for the belongings of the restaurant staff stored their things. To one corner was a tiny restroom, which I only knew when Signora opened the door for me. It had a small toilet and sink and a cracked mirror. Michel appeared shortly after, and I asked him what had happened. Michel rambled off in angry Italian about how Andrew had turned, grabbed a pie from the dessert trolley, and tried to throw it at Jareth. He said that Sarah tried to stop Andrew, but that just caused him to misfire, and the pie ended up all over me. He explained as Signora had me sit down on the toilet lid, and I sighed, speaking in Italian to them. "At least it's over now."

Mamma Bocelli helped me get as much pie as we could out of my hair and cleaned my face, but the dress was stained a deep purple color,and I worried it wouldn't come out. Once we were finished, Mamma Bocelli hugged me and asked me if I needed anything. I shook my head no but thanked her and Michel for all they had done.

I left the restaurant shortly after, avoiding eye contact with the other patrons out of embarrassment. It was freezing outside, but at least it wasn't snowing or windy. I wrapped my arms around myself and hurried to the parking lot. I thought I'd have to search for Andrew, but it turned out there was no need. He was busy angrily yelling at Jareth, and the goblin king remained calm and cool. I thought at first they were fighting, but when I came quickly over, it became clear that Andrew was trying to fight, and Jareth was simply avoiding him, stepping clear of his blows. Sarah was standing half a dozen steps behind Jareth, looking anxious. Jareth said something, and Andrew snarled, surging forward.

But he must have failed to see a patch of ice, because one moment he was charging forward, and the next he was face down on the pavement. I cringed, and Andrew issued a muffled shout of pain. He rolled carefully onto his side, and I gasped when I saw blood like twin streams coming from his clearly now very broken nose. Andrew tended to his wound, not yet recovered from the trauma enough to think of standing.

Movement from Jareth pulled my attention to him. He gave Andrew a look of cold disgust, looking very much a king, then turned to Sarah. He led her to a car where she stopped at the driver's door and faced him with a grateful smile. I just barely overheard her telling Jareth. "Thank you for walking me to my car. It was an….exciting evening." she glanced warily at Andrew. I felt horrible when I realized why. Andrew had frightened her. My feelings abruptly changed to anger. He had scared the poor woman, all because he was jealous of Jareth! I bristled and started over to Andrew. Sarah continued. "Let's meet...say tomorrow night?" I faltered in my steps. Tomorrow night? They were going out again so soon? My heart sank and I felt a bit jealous until I steeled myself. It wasn't my business what either of them did. Jareth agreed, opening her door for her, and I watched as his date drove away.

Jareth stayed there until Andrew noticed me. "Amelia…" Andrew groaned, and Jareth tensed. Almost robotically, the goblin king moved to face my boyfriend and marched towards him. Reaching down, he hauled Andrew to his feet as if he weighed nothing at all, until they were face to face. With a curl of his lip, Jareth pulled Andrew closer and murmured something in his ear. When he pulled away, Andrew's face was the color of chalk. Would they fight again? I wondered in a panic, and quickly I ran over to them, disregarding the ice. I had to stop them from fighting again. But the king didn't fight. He released Andrew, and took several steps back.

"I'm so sorry Amelia!" Andrew blinked rapidly at me, and I scowled at him. I wasn't the one he needed to apologize to! He owed both Sarah and Jareth an apology. I remembered the king and looked up to apologize. But Jareth had already turned and was walking further into the parking lot, his hands fisted and his posture tensed.

I chewed on the tip of my tongue to hold myself together. I felt like crying, and that feeling frustrated me. Crying wouldn't solve anything. My possible tears were forced away, though, when Andrew started to complain. "Ugh, I got blood on my new jacket." I resigned myself to trying to talk to Jareth later as he stepped out of my line of sight. I spoke to Andrew. "Come on, give me your keys. I'm driving you to the hospital." I said, putting my arm around his waist and slinging his arm over my shoulders. "Right jacket pocket." He said, his right hand currently beneath his nose where it was trying to stop the blood. "Right." I said. Loosening my hold around him, I slid out from under his arm and turned in front of him to face him so that his hand was now resting on my shoulder. I reached my left hand into his jacket pocket and searched for the keys.

Andrew began lightly fingering the ruffles there on my shoulder, and I slowed in searching for his keys, then paused completely when he spoke. "What is it about him that you like? What does he have that I don't have?" I pursed my lips and continued searching his pocket. There were a great deal of differences between Andrew and Jareth. He wouldn't like most of them if I told him. "Amelia." Andrew prompted me, his eyebrows coming together. When I didn't immediately respond, Andrew tugged lightly on my sleeve as if that would help me pay attention to him. Instead he ended up tugging the shoulder of my dress over enough that my white lace bra strap became visible to him.

I went bright red and looked at it, then at him as I reached up and pulled it back into place. His gaze was momentarily transfixed until I fixed my clothing, and his cheeks darkened guiltily. "Sorry..." He said. I gave up on his pocket. "The keys aren't here, Andrew." I told him. Andrew's brow furrowed then cleared as he remembered where they were, and he blushed in embarrassment. "Oh. Shoot, sorry I forgot they're in my right pants pocket." Feeling exasperated and tired, I stepped closer and reached my hand swiftly into his pants pocket. I just wanted to get the night over with. The keys were near the top, luckily, and I pulled them out. Gesturing at the parking lot, I said. "K. Let's go."

We reached his car and in no time were driving to the hospital. The drive started out in silence until Andrew dripped blood on his new shirt, and he grunted and swore. "That ass Jareth! Now I've got blood all over me and a broken nose. I'm going to press charges about this, he's not about to get away with it."

My jaw clenched, but I did not reply. I knew if I opened my mouth, I would tear Andrew a new one. It was no one's fault but his own. He interrupted Jareth's date. He insulted Sarah. He threw himself at Jareth and fell on his own face, breaking his own nose. But I remained silent, knowing it would only make Andrew angrier. And Jareth was angry now, too. He had not wanted any of this. My fingers clenched the steering wheel, furious. Andrew fell silent, apparently realizing he wasn't about to get any sympathy from me. He'd made his own mess. I felt his gaze on my face as he finally spoke. "You're mad." He stated quietly. I offered him a stiff nod.

"I'm sorry, Amelia." Andrew apologized. He shifted in discomfort in his seat and continued. "It's just...it's just that that man makes me so jealous, I can't help myself when it comes to you. I just lose my mind and get so angry." He frowned at the dash, his forehead wrinkled.

I pressed my lips thin together. I could understand him getting jealous. Jareth was a rare kind of man. He was kind, funny, protective and sharp, and he took my breath away with his grace and power. He was always in control of the situation. Jareth cared so much about others when he didn't have to. He took care of me when I was sick, when he didn't have to. He's the type of man that most women dream of. A man I couldn't have.

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A/N: So what do you think? Comment and let me know.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Chapter sixteen. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth.

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A Writer Required

Chapter Sixteen

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I arrived promptly at Amelia's home, transforming with a flurry of feathers after she shut the door. "Hey." Amelia greeted, and I straightened up from my landing, dusting off my coat. She stepped past me, lightly tossing the rolled up newspaper on a small table against the wall. She didn't look at me, and there was a tension present in her shoulders, and in the way she walked, that hinted at something being wrong. Her limp was worse today as well, I noticed. I'd have to see what could be done about that, if she'd allow it. "Good morning, Little Kitten." I greeted in turn, hoping to tease her into relaxing from what seemed to be bothering her.

It worked, at least at first. Amelia's shoulders sank and she half ducked her head, her cheeks red when she glanced at me. I stopped a grin mid way when I saw her face, and she looked away again quickly, moving to the kitchen without a word. I raised my eyebrows, then followed a moment later.

"Are you cross with me?" I asked, studying her profile as she stirred scrambled eggs in a pan. She was still not looking at me. Her face was red, her lips pursed, and there was a sparkle in her eye that did not stem from happiness nor amusement. I frowned, waiting, then folded my arms and leaned against the doorframe.

At length Amelia took a deep breath, then spoke. "No."

I watched her. Amelia kept her eyes on her task, not looking at me. She wasn't lying. If she had been lying, she would have glanced over to gauge whether or not I believed her, and then look away again. As it was, her gaze was fixed on the frying pan. I waited, and she continued after setting the spatula she was using down on the counter, and really looked at me. My eyes widened, and in seeing this, she cast her eyes to the stove once more. Her eyes were red-the sparkle I'd noticed before belonged to tears-but what was she crying about? My first thought was Andrew, which she shortly confirmed, and my anger was kindled. "Andrew's been trying to call and text me." She licked her lips, her eyes unfocused.

She continued, though it was almost more to herself than it was to me. "He has to learn he can't treat people like he did last night." She fell silent, and then bristled a moment before resignation took over her countenance. "I'm giving him some time to figure it out." She studied me a moment, worry in her reddened eyes. I felt my mood darken. Andrew had upset her, hurt her out of his own selfish jealousy. And now she was worrying, about what I didn't know, but that she was so upset, did not sit well with me. That prat Andrew was fortunate I'd merely let him fall on his face. A true fight, were I to hold nothing back, would have had him flat on his back, unlikely to be getting up again without considerable assistance, if he got up at all. I leaned away from the doorframe in seeing Amelia's concerned expression.

"Andrew was really angry," She began, turning off the stove before returning her attention to me. "He kept talking about pressing charges. I don't think he realizes just how unlikely it is that a judge would take his argument seriously. He attacked you, not the other way around."

I couldn't help but to feel a margin of amusement. "Imagine how he'd feel if he knew I am not of this world. I doubt very much the Labyrinth is in any Above judge's jurisdiction." I raised a mirthful eyebrow and grinned shortly afterwards when my words pulled a wry chuckle from Amelia. "Yeah, that might make a lawsuit more difficult." She shook her head, amused. A smile had danced a moment upon her lips, but it faded. Amelia stirred the eggs, but had to stop when her left hand struggled to hold the spatula. Pursing her lips in silent frustration, she took it up with her right hand, and continued as if nothing had happened. But her face paled, and her eyes watched her left hand where it loosely held onto the frying pan's handle.

Amelia grimaced, then winced suddenly, pressing the fingers of her left hand to her temple. I stepped forward to offer assistance, but she lowered her hand when she noticed, and went to a cupboard, dismissing her pain. "Do you want any eggs? Or maybe tea?" She asked.

I shook my head from side to side. I'd already eaten-and even if I hadn't, I wouldn't want her unnecessarily moving about and causing herself further pain. "Thank you, no." Amelia nodded, and she went about finishing preparing her breakfast. As she did, I thought back to the night previous, where Sarah and I had been interrupted at Bocelli's.

The prat Andrew had interrupted us, and left Amelia to stand beside him in obvious discomfort and embarrassment. In seeing her so upset at having interrupted us, and in seeing Andrew's smug expression, I at once offered Amelia a seat beside me, putting my arm about her shoulders to put her at ease about the situation.

Then finding myself surprised by Amelia's knowledge of the Italian language. It wasn't perfect, but for not being her native tongue, she was surprisingly good at it. The words flowed easily for her, almost dancing upon her tongue. Finding out that our waiter had once been courting her, however, was a less than pleasant discovery. His mother arriving and chatting with us made my concerns drift away. She was very obviously interested in Amelia's happiness, and it was clear to see that both she and her son harbored no ill feelings towards her.

Andrew, on the other hand, did not seem to feel the same way at all. I could see him becoming agitated the longer he sat observing us. Amelia's attempts to engage him in conversation were unsuccessful due to his souring mood. His insult toward me was noted, and deflected, earning me a laugh from both Sarah and Amelia. Amelia seemed at last to have forgotten the earlier awkward atmosphere, and was truly enjoying herself. That fact alone pleased me.

Andrew's insult toward Sarah, was something else altogether. It still made me furious, now, just thinking about it. Despite her assurances to me that she was fine, I could see she was upset as we were leaving the restaurant. She was always a terrible liar. We were nearing the parking lot when Andrew approached me, his eyes full of dark fury. I felt a powerful desire to put him in his place. But the sight of Sarah's frightened expression urged me instead to avoid the conflict. I easily sidestepped his first attempted assault, and guided Sarah in the direction of her car. But Andrew was not to be ignored. I heard his fast approaching footsteps and whirled to face him. I stepped clear of his flying fist. If I hadn't been currently inclined to beat the coward to a pulp, I might have admired the skill of his fist. He was no stranger to fisticuffs, but the combination of the wine he had consumed and the level of his anger, made his blows fall short in accuracy, and his footing turn clumsy. But a man, especially a drunk, jealous, and angry man, could still be deadly.

Eventually Andrew's own drunken feet slipped on the ice, and he fell on his face with a satisfying crunch as his nose was broken, and he uttered a shout of pain.

I had failed to notice Amelia's arrival until after Sarah had left, and I heard Andrew moaning her name. My whole body tensed, and my fists clenched in anger. After all that, after how Andrew had treated her in the restaurant, he had the audacity to expect sympathy from her. I turned to him, marching over to his prone form. Pulling the prat to his feet by his collar, I pulled him close and murmured into his ear. "The next time you attack me or someone I care for, be assured that you will find yourself unable to walk." Andrew's face paled a great deal, and feeling he had learned his lesson, I leaned away again.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Amelia approaching, and with reluctance I released him and stepped back. Her countenance was angry and distressed, and I left while she tended to him. I could feel her eyes upon my back, could sense the conflict of emotions warring in them, and once I had walked out of sight, I transformed and made for home.

A clatter and the shrill sound of glass shattering, shook my attention back to Amelia. A translucent glass plate bearing scrambled eggs had crashed to the kitchen floor. Amelia's left hand was shaking, telling me what had happened. She must have tried to pick up the plate, and her left hand wasn't strong enough to manage it. "Shoot! Sorry-give me a second." Dismayed, she half fell to her knees when her left leg struggled to obey the simple action. She ignored it, however, and began gathering up the glass shards and scrambled eggs. She seemed determined to do everything herself. I stepped forward in concern to assist, but she jerked her hand up to tell me to stop. "No, you'll get hurt! Just wait a minute and I'll clean this up-" I did as she said, but as her hand was lowering back down to the mess, she pulled her hand away again with a gasp of pain. "Ow!" Amelia hissed, and I decided I had waited long enough. She was clearly struggling, and only making her situation worse by not accepting help.

"Let me see it." I spoke firmer than I had intended. My frustration with her desire to take care of the situation herself, was easily recognized in my voice. She needed help, but was unwilling to accept it. Amelia examined it herself, and I could see it was nothing serious, though there was more blood than I was comfortable with her losing. It ran in ruby rivulets down the side of her hand and across her palm. One of those small sticky bandages would do in helping it heal once it was cleaned.

"Do you have bandages?" I questioned. She nodded, pointing at the refrigerator where a large white box was sitting on top. "There are band aids in that first aid kit." Amelia moved to stand to get them, and I glared sternly at her. "I will get them. You will be sitting on the couch." Amelia shook her head no, and my eyes narrowed in exasperation. I wasn't taking no for an answer. "It's not up for discussion, Amelia. Now be still, I'm going to come pick you up." I stepped across the broken glass to reach her, and she straightened up in a hurry, her cut hand cradled in the other. Her eyes grew large and she shook her head at me in panic. "Jareth, don't! The glass-!"

"-will not harm me, I promise. Be still." I assured her, my tone calming. I went down almost on one knee, letting it hover above the broken glass to prepare to lift her into my arms. I slipped one arm under her knees, and the other behind her shoulders. She stiffened, opening her mouth to protest. I shot her a firm look, and she fell silent. I rose, holding her close. Amelia's fragrance was enchanting, a mix of jasmine and strawberries. It reminded me of the gardens in the Labyrinth, and it held my attention as I turned toward the living room. I waved a hand, and the glass and scrambled eggs swirled up into the air and put themselves in the kitchen waste bin, and I went to the couch in the living room. She relaxed gradually, leaning a little into me, and I found myself not wanting to put her down. Reluctantly I placed Amelia in her usual spot and went to retrieve the kit she'd pointed out, whilst trying not to think about how nice it felt to hold her. She had such a calming, soothing presence, that it was difficult not to be comfortable around her.

Obediently Amelia stayed on the couch, doing so more out of surprise than anything. By the time I returned with the box, her cheeks had turned rosey in hue, and she was studying the cut with great focus. Amused despite my frustration, I quipped. "Staring at it won't make it heal any faster, dearest." I smiled reassuringly when she timidly met my gaze, and she relaxed into the couch as I sat beside her. The kit was well organized, and Amelia pointed out the things we would need. Small square clothes smelling of alcohol, an ointment to stave off infection, and the band aid I recalled.

The small clothes were used to clean her hand of the blood, revealing that the cut was about a half inch in length and luckily not too deep, just as I had suspected. Amelia looked relieved. "It's not so bad. All that blood made it look worse than it actually is."

"That's not uncommon." I offered in reply, once I had examined it. I came to the last step and opened a band aid, but the adhesive stuck to my gloves, and I frowned at it. "Are these bandages, or devious traps?" I ground out. Amelia giggled lightly, then looked between me and the band aid before hesitantly speaking. "Do you want…" She began to offer help, and I sent her a look that made her cheeks redden, and she cleared her throat. "...me to just be quiet, got it." I realized belatedly the gloves were likely the problem. "Just a moment." I removed the gloves, and Amelia watched curiously as I tried again with a new band aid.

I took her hand in mine, and the contact sent an electric shock through me. I held my breath, just registering it, and Amelia met my gaze, her own eyes wide and her breath stilling. For the first time I noticed the emerald green flecks around her pupils. Had they always been there? I remembered her cut then, and dragged my gaze down to my task. I carefully placed the bandage over the cut where it was at the edge of her palm, and once it was taken care of, I wondered about how her left arm and leg were doing. Her left arm was resting palm up on her knee, and to the naked eye it appeared fine, but every tiny movement she made, caused her to wince in pain.

The electric feeling changed slightly, and I felt my magic pass to and through my fingertips, assessing Amelia's condition. I stayed still, following it in my mind's eye. It passed over her arm and leg, starting where they met her spine and spreading down to the ends of her fingertips and toes. Her skin and muscles absorbed it, strengthening them. The magic surprised me when, after helping Amelia, it passed back up to her spine, and returned to me. I sucked in a silent breath when it hit me, and I shivered when I felt suddenly quite warm.

The feeling between us was strong, like an electric current. I was still trying to process it when I realized Amelia was speaking. "Thank you Jareth." I nodded, and the electricity mounted.

Releasing her hand, I stood abruptly to put some distance between us, alarmed at this new development. My heart was warm, dancing to a swifter beat. I needed to better process this.

I didn't realize Amelia had stood up until her good hand was resting on my shoulder. "Jareth, what's wrong-?" I turned too sharply, that same electricity jarring me, as I turned to face Amelia. She nearly tipped over, and in moment of panic I took hold of her upper arms, steadying her and stepping closer until we were nearly flush together. The color had gone from her cheeks, the fear in her eyes at the near fall was something I did not like to see. She shut them, just breathing to calm herself, and I could feel her heart racing beneath my fingertips. Without thinking, I let my thumbs breeze over her skin in way of comfort. But her heart did not slow down, and her eyes opened to meet mine.

My gaze lowered down to her mouth, and I felt as if I were being drawn forward. Amelia's lips parted, and I stopped, at war within myself. She had no idea of the repercussions that would occur if I gave in. How she would become mine. The marriage bond would become complete, and her life Above as she knew it would end. Amelia swayed under my touch, the emotions on her face reading like a book to me. The fae pheromones I had, I knew, were affecting her. Uncertainty and worry, about the repercussions if we were to continue. The loyalty for Andrew she felt, already damage by his actions of the night before, was being tested now. Loyalty that was lessening in the prat's favor. Most of all there's a sliver of fear. Fear of being used, of being cast aside. I wouldn't let that happen. I would make certain she knew how much I cared, how much I truly wanted her.

Her gaze grew hot upon my lips, her want and need for more, potent and sweet in the air like nectar, amplified my own feelings. Like a human being seduced into the Underground by his fae lover. I didn't want to fight this feeling. I wanted her, more than anything.

At last I lowered my mouth towards hers. Her breath, like silk, swept over my lips. I hesitated, tasting her breath; not yet touching her lips. Part of me begged her to pull away, to stop this before we went too far, but the rest of me didn't want to give her the choice. With my fae chemistry, I knew I didn't have to give her the choice; it could easily overpower her senses.

Slowly, carefully, I kissed her, allowing the sensations to wash over my entire body. 'Just a little more, a little longer.' I thought. 'She feels so good.' I let one of my hands leave her arm, ghosting it up her back. Amelia gasped, and I eagerly drank in her breath. My entire body reacted to it, and I felt the shimmering energy and magic like fog upon my skin, and instinctively I breathed Fae breath into her, caressing her very soul.

"Ah…" Amelia's eyes fluttered closed as my breath moved within her, enhancing the sensitivity of her skin to my touch. Her knees trembled, weakening, and she could no longer stand. She eased back to lay upon the couch, and I followed her down.

'Just a little more.' I thought, my body temperature rising. Leaning in to kiss her again, my lips brushed her own when I felt the caress of her hand touching the front of my hip. I stopped, freezing above her. Keeping still, I half opened my eyes, breathing in her warm scent. Her eyes are closed, the rest of her soaking in the sensations I induced. I could take her. In under minute, she would be mine. 'I will have you.' I thought, my hand on her back caressing a lazy design on its way around to her waist and from there to her stomach.

"Don't stop," Amelia breathlessly begged. Her words resonated in my mind, clearing it, just a little. Enough for me to realize what had almost just occurred.

"Stop," I ordered. More to myself than to her, more even to the situation we found ourselves in. Her breath was deep and filled with desire, tempting me to kiss her parted lips as it warmed my skin. My own lips pressed together thin in frustration, and I found myself suddenly sitting up. "I...I will not." I forced myself to stand, at once regretting the loss of Amelia's touch. I ached for her. I ached for what I knew we could not have. "You don't know what you're offering." I felt like pacing; but the tension between us was still so powerful that I dared not move, for fear of approaching her and finishing what we had started. Instead I stared at her, studying the minute details to keep myself focused. The faint ginger tone of her hair in the light, the apple red blush filling her cheeks. The heat in her eyes as they opened, seeking me out.

She protested the distance between us with those same eyes, though arguing with me by word. "Yes, I do," Her blue topaz eyes were clouded, seduced by my Fae chemistry. I could feel it, I could see it, like a golden mist between us. "Jareth..." My name from her mouth nearly undid my resolve, the warmth of it intoxicating.

"I said, no." I stole a step back from her. I needed to clear my mind. "I will not destroy you, not you, not like this."

In the air between us the pheromones began to clear, and her eyes lightened as the affects of it faded away. She slowly sat up, shuddering with the loss, and I took another step back, nearly touching the window. Something in her eyes hit me as they met with mine. It was a look that made me want to go to her to offer comfort, and at the same time to draw away entirely. I could sense the uncertainty and wariness growing in her eyes as my inadvertent influence faded. I swallowed, then took a breath to steady myself. Amelia began to come to her feet, and I turned away before she could convince me to stay. "I'm sorry." I gathered magic for a transportation spell, and before she could say another word, I vanished from her world.

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A/N: *fans face* Whew! Review and let me know what you think!


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Shout out to LovelyAmberLight for her feedback and suggestions! (And general awesomeness!)

UPDATE 11/23/17: Just fixed a few minor errors.

Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth. You know it. I know it. The world knows it. Carry on.

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A Writer Required

Chapter Seventeen

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I came back to myself once Jareth had left, though I felt ruffled and more than a little confused. Confused, because one moment we were sitting on the couch and he was helping put a bandaid on me, and then he was healing my arm and leg. The next moment, he was kissing me and holding me in his arms. Then he was on top of me, turning me into an inferno. My face felt hot. What was wrong with me? I'd never felt like this before in my life! Not with anyone. Not even with Andrew, when he was kissing me. No, to compare Jareth to Andrew was like comparing a blue hypergiant star to our own small sun. Jareth made me go weak at the knees, literally, and feel as if I was on fire. Andrew did not, and therefore could not, compare.

I touched my face with my hands, trying to cool it down, and I remembered something Jareth had said before he left. 'Not you, not like this.' What had he meant, 'not me'? Could he… I felt my stomach twist in knots. Could he be sleeping with Sarah? Was he like all those Fae I'd read about? How they seduced women at their leisure and discarding them like trash? Just how many women was Jareth taking to his bed?

If he was like those other Fae, why did he stop, knowing he could have taken me? My shoulders eased, suddenly grateful he had stopped. But at the same time I felt nauseas; rejected. 'Is this what it's like to be "Fae touched"?' I wondered. I remembered Sarah Williams, remembered my earlier thought of her and Jareth sleeping together, and a feeling hit me. It was so strong, it made the word 'jealousy' seem childish by comparison.

I wasn't jealous.

I was _furious_.

I _hated_ Sarah Williams. No, not hated. Despised her. Loathed her. I wished she was dea…

I pulled myself to a violent halt at those words, dropping my hands from my face and sitting up ramrod straight, an audible gasp of horror falling from my lips at the same time I had moved. I had almost just wished harm on another person. An act that never left my lips or entered my mind in a sincere manner in my life! I could never truly wish for others to come to harm.

I took a breath, then exhaled. I felt more myself. 'Maybe knowing one of the Fae isn't such a good idea after all.' I thought, and my heartbeat picked up as another thought came. What would I do when he came back? My stomach flipped unpleasantly and I felt cold with sudden fear. I needed help-help from someone who knew more about Fae nature than I did. I needed to talk to that person, to get this figured out. To get rid of all the negative emotions I felt towards Sarah. My eyes widened in realization. "I need to talk to her." I breathed out loud in realization.

Getting out my phone, I opened Facebook and went to the search. I started to type 'Sarah Williams', when I remembered Jareth had called her 'Sarah Carmichael'. She had changed her name in the movie, apparently. I found her on the search and checked a couple photos to be sure it was her. It was definitely the same Sarah that Jareth had introduced me to at Bocelli's. I tapped 'message', and stared at the blank space that opened with the messenger app. How did I even start?

Taking a breath, I eased back into the couch and started with the truth. I explained my and Jareth's situation as far as my helping him write his story, then hesitated. I found it hard to express what I wanted to say, so instead I asked her if we could meet somewhere to talk more. I sent the message before I could convince myself otherwise, and then waited. I set my phone aside to write down on my laptop what had happened today. If I needed to, I would ask Sarah more about Fae's seducing tendencies. My phone sounded with wind chimes and bird calls, signalling a text. I lifted it warily, hoping it wasn't Andrew again.

It wasn't. It was Marcus. My eyebrows went up and then down in question. I read the text he'd sent. "Hey Turnip, I'm working later today so I'm headed by the bakery to grab some food. You want me to pick you up anything? They have cinnamon rolls… :O"

I chuckled at his message. "Turnip" was Marcus's nickname for me. He said when I frowned, I looked like an old wrinkly turnip, and the nickname stuck. I was just glad our other co-workers hadn't caught wind of it yet. Most just called me "Lady" after a client started calling me that.

Another text from Marcus popped up. "Anyway, text me back when you get this."

The bakery Marcus frequented was famous for cinnamon rolls, and he knew I could not resist when offered one. I wrote back. "Yes, please! Only, I'm not working today, so maybe you better not."

He replied not long after. "What?! Playing hooky, huh?"

I scoffed, then retorted in my text. "Ha ha. It's my day off, you goober."

Marcus texted, "Uh-huh, sure it is..." and I swear I could hear the teasing sarcasm through his words.

I rolled my eyes. He knew perfectly well it was my day off, because he was in charge during our shift. He was just teasing me. I was writing him back a particularly clever, snarky response, when a notification appeared on my screen. It was from Sarah!

I opened it at once, torn between wanting to know more, and dreading it. She wrote back.

"Of course! I'm free today if you want to meet? How does the mall sound? We could meet by that big fountain at the center."

I thought about it. The mall was actually perfect.

I wrote back. "Yeah, that works. Twelve o'clock ok with you?" I needed to shower and get dressed still, and then I'd have plenty of time to drive there without worrying too much about slow traffic. Sarah replied.

"Only if we get to buy those soft pretzels and a jamba! Lol." I laughed at her reply, amused. I was fine with that.

"Lol! How could we not get those?!" I responded. "Ok, see you in a little while!"

"See you then!" Sarah replied, and I closed the conversation bubble. I felt a lot better about the situation. Sarah seemed really nice, and I was glad I'd talked with her. Even just this little bit of conversation between us had made a big impact on lifting away my unnatural mood. I hoped that would continue with our meeting at the mall.

I finished getting ready and when it was time, drove down to the mall. It wasn't terribly crowded, but there were enough people and enough noise, that I didn't feel like I needed to worry about us being overheard during our conversation. On my way to the fountain I got a text from Marcus. "Cinnamon rolls purchased. Hidden in lowest drawer of front desk and labeled. You're welcome. :D"

I laughed at his text, grinning crookedly as I stopped by a sports shop to text back. "My hero! But seriously, you didn't need to buy them for me."

Marcus replied a moment later. "Hell yeah, I am! But seriously, I did. The clients have been antsy all week, snapping at staff. You'll need these, trust me. Good luck, Turnip."

My smile faded while reading his text. Well, at least I was prepared now. I prayed work wouldn't be so bad, then texted back. "Thanks!"

Marcus sent back a smiley face, and I pocketed my phone before continuing through the mall. The clock for the mall had begun gently chiming the hour when I arrived at the mall center. The fountain was large, but simple in design, maybe six feet in diameter and six inches deep. Sarah was sitting at a table nearby the fountain, watching the water falling.

I slowed when I saw her, took a deep breath, then approached. I spoke before reaching her so I didn't startle her. "Hey, Sarah!" My words felt a little hollow, and I winced internally. Sarah looked over, seeming not to notice my empty greeting. Her smile was genuine, and I felt a bit better in seeing it.

Sarah greeted me once I reached her table, then feeling awkward, I tried to push it away by gesturing toward the pretzel place and the Jamba shop next to it. "Should we grab something to eat?" Sarah agreed. After we had gotten our pretzels and drinks and sat down at a table nearer to the water fountain, Sarah spoke.

"Ok," she said. "What's up?"

I swallowed a pretzel bite, echoing her question with a furrowed brow. "'What's up'?"

"Yeah, what's up?" Sarah repeated, leaning forward over her Jamba to give me a pointed look. "I know how I felt after I came back from the Labyrinth. And I didn't get through that maze without being able to read people...er... goblins... same thing." The champion shook her head dismissively. "I knew the moment you said hello, that something was really wrong. That has to be why you facebooked me. So, what's happened? What's wrong? What did King tight pants do?"

My mouth dropped open, and I was grateful I'd swallowed my bite of pretzel before she'd spoken. I would've choked for sure.

I didn't know what to say. She hadn't looked like she'd noticed my off tone before-but clearly she had. How could Sarah have known? How could she have figured so much out so quickly? Was this how she'd beaten the Labyrinth? Or was this some kind of fae touched skill she came back with? Maybe it was the certain powers mentioned in the movie. The certain powers Jareth had given her. A spark of jealousy seared through me.

"How do you know it was him?" I tried to squash my jealousy with my question, but it only fanned the flames. I clenched my jaw. Just how well did Sarah know the Goblin King?! Discomforted, I reached for my pretzel, only to find it was gone. I stared at the little paper container. Had I really been so distracted that I failed to notice I'd finished my pretzel? A little disturbed by this realization, I took a sip of my drink and noted how Sarah still had her pretzel. Seriously, had I inhaled mine?

"Who else could it be?" Sarah answered, bringing me back to the topic at hand. "He's the only one we both know. The Underground is the only thing we know we both have in common." She looked at the bread in her hand. "Well, except for the love of pretzels." I smiled lightly at the pretzel remark, and she looked back at me. "So, what's he done? And how can I help?" Sarah hadn't wasted a second, and her last question made me feel a bit better. She was willing to help-and I needed her help.

"I..." I took a deep breath, opened my mouth, and stopped. A family had sat down nearby, and I didn't think what we had to discuss would be welcome to the mother's ears.

Sarah saw, and picked up the little bit left of her pretzel and inclined her head toward the fountain. "Let's take a walk." I followed when she stood, and we put our garbage in a garbage can as we were passing it, then began walking along near the center of the mall's halls.

Once we were relatively alone, I told her the whole story, every sordid detail. Only afterward, did I realize Sarah was blushing. "Sorry," I swallowed, trying to find something to say.

"No. No, don't be sorry," Sarah answered reassuringly. She remained silent a second more before saying seriously. "I think you're safe in your relationship with Jareth. I really could not be less interested."

I flushed, and a potted plant's leaves brushed up against my shoulder as we passed it. "What? No, we're not-wait really?" I cleared my throat and composed myself when Sarah's eyebrows traveled north on her face. I tried again. "If you don't mind my asking: why not?"

Sarah shook her head, saying. "I was too young for one thing, and for another, I couldn't see myself living there. I wanted to finish school, go to college and get a degree; to live a normal life." She waved a hand reassuringly at me. "Don't get me wrong, my adventure in the Labyrinth taught me a lot of things. Especially to never take anyone or anything for granted. So that's what I'm doing now. I'm having my own adventure."

I nodded thoughtfully, processing this. I found I actually admired her. She'd come out of a Fae encounter unscathed, where as I… I pursed my lips and my cheeks burned. Sarah nodded at me with empathy, drawing my gaze up to hers in question. "There's one other thing." She paused a moment. "I was never in love with Jareth. He was mysterious and intriguing, and certainly alluring, but that was all to distract me. His confession at the end of my run may have been sincere, but I didn't love him. I couldn't love him." She offered a nonchalant shrug, and then we continued walking. "So, I think you two are safe in your relationship." She smiled wide, and the sincerity of it caused my shoulders to relax in relief from their tensed state. I hesitated when I remembered Jareth's earlier seduction, my face heating up once more, and I quietly asked Sarah.

"Ok, so… What happens now?" I asked.

Sarah raised an eyebrow at me. "With Jareth?"

I swallowed, my cheeks gaining a much richer color, and I nodded. "Yes."

Sarah watched me carefully. "That's up to you. Do you still want to see him?"

I nodded, and noted that my head was starting to burn and ache, which did not help one bit. "Yeah." I said through it.

Sarah's forehead wrinkled in thought, and she was silent for a little while. "And you said Jareth had removed his gloves?" Her eyes met mine with a pensive look and I nodded. She continued. "From what I've gathered, fae very rarely remove their gloves. They're very careful when it comes to skin to skin contact; especially with humans," She paused, thinking as she walked. "I'm not absolutely sure about this, but it's possible that fae pheromones are activated by skin contact."

Sarah took a sip of her Jamba while I processed her words. She went on. "It could be that Jareth had not been in his right mind because of the hormones." Her brow unwrinkled. "He could have run to escape the situation."

My shoulders eased further with her words. 'Could my jealousy really just been a hormonal reaction as well?' I thought, and relief filled me.

But, there was still one thing that I hadn't said, one thing that was bugging me. "I'm sorry about what happened at Bocelli's," I began. Sarah waved away my apology, though her face was a little paler. I frowned. "Seriously, Sarah. Andrew can be a real idiot when it comes to Jareth. I'm sorry you got caught in the crossfire. That should never have happened."

Sarah shrugged. "It wasn't your fault. I could tell you felt bad, and you really don't need to." She smiled lightly. "Anyway, we were just discussing my job. Jareth helps me save and relocate children from abusive homes."

Understanding dawned on my face, and I felt guilty anew for thinking ill of her at all to begin with. I hadn't known her circumstances, sure, but that was no excuse for being so jealous. 'To be fair, I'm pretty sure Jareth's fae hormones had something to do with that.' I reminded myself. Even so, the feeling might not have been as strong had I not already felt some jealousy towards Sarah.

I realized as we walked, that the jealousy had abated, leaving me calmer. I smiled to myself, feeling peaceful, then turned that same smile into one of gratitude when I replied to Sarah. "Thank you. I appreciate you meeting with me and discussing this." My smile fell. "I didn't know what else to do."

Sarah returned with equal sincerity. "I'm glad you did, too. It's nice talking to someone about it all, when normally there's no one who can relate." She made a face that brought my smile back with amusement when I had a sudden thought.

"Well, there is his nibs, King tight pants." I offered teasingly. Sarah snorted, almost running into one of several chairs set out for customers. "Whoa! Watch it, there. Chairs attack people here, apparently." I joked. Sarah shook her head, still smiling.

Once she was steady again and we'd continued walking, I asked her. "But seriously, how is it fae men are so sexy?"

Sarah giggled. "Maybe it's something they eat?"

"Right?!" I agreed, unsuccessfully fighting a grin. "It must be something they put in the water there."

Sarah laughed, then made a face. "Oh! That would explain the bog!"

I chuckled, and widening my eyes conspiratorially, I leaned sideways to mock whisper. "Maybe the stench is a cover for it's true power!" Sarah couldn't contain her laughter.

"Could you imagine Jareth drinking that?!" She giggled once she recovered, and I made an exaggerated expression of disgust that made her smile.

"Well, I can attest that his breath certainly doesn't smell bad." I confided, then chuckled. "He must brush his teeth with something strong to fight the odor..." I joked, and we both giggled at that.

Sarah and I really bonded during our meeting at the mall, and we agreed we should meet again. On my way home, I thought about how I now felt about Sarah. The jealousy was finally gone, replaced by a friendship based off our shared experiences with 'King tight pants' and our own conversations. I snickered to myself at that nickname. I was pretty sure that that would never not amuse me. I wondered if I couldn't subtly work it in on occasion to tease him.

I returned home a good few hours later, not realizing at the time how long Sarah and I had been talking. I wasn't worried, though. I didn't have anything else to do today.

The next day brought a text from Marcus. "Hey Turnip, you have any plans today?"

I was stopped midway through typing a sentence in writing Jareth's story when I got the text. I paused to read it, then replied.

"Yes, actually. I'm working on a project." I sent it, then set my phone aside and returned to writing. I was really on a roll today. I was nearly finished writing out my and Sarah's conversation of the other day, and smirking every time I wrote "King tight pants". I may or may not have snuck it in one or two times more than necessary.

Another text came from Marcus. "I was going to go out with Brian and the guys from work to lunch at the bowling alley today, but they all bailed on me. Would you want to go?"

My eyes flit up to the clock on my phone. It was eleven o'clock! I needed more than half an hour to get ready, and it took fifteen minutes to get to the bowling alley from my house. I would make it in time, but I really didn't want to step away just now. I gazed at the document in dismay. I was on a roll with writing, too; something that felt like a rare occurrence lately. I didn't want to stop now and struggle back into the groove later.

But I was feeling a little cooped up. I texted Marcus back. "How about bowling after dinner? Say, 7pm? We could meet at the lanes." I was about to send it when Sarah came to mind, and I wondered if she'd want to go with. 'It'd be a good opportunity for us to get to know each other better, and she could meet Marcus as well.' I thought. It couldn't hurt to ask her. I added to the text, "I'd like to invite my friend Sarah to bowl with us, if that's ok with you?" then sent it to Marcus. He texted back, agreeing to both the time change and Sarah.

Sarah'd given me her phone number the other day after our conversation, and I created a new text to her. "Hey Sarah, my friend Marcus and I are going bowling at 7 tonight. I was wondering if you might want to come play too?"

Several hours later found Sarah and I meeting just inside the bowling alley. "Wow that snow really started coming down!" Sarah breathed hot air into her clasped hands and shivered despite the heavy coat she wore.

I nodded as I dusted snow off of my arms and shoulders. "No kidding-I hope we don't have to dig our cars out of the snow later."

The bowling alley was surprisingly crowded, and I led Sarah over to the counter where we paid for our shoes. We were quietly giggling over how handsome the cashier was, and that topic led to how attractive fae men are. The cashier, unaware of our conversation, had bent over to get our shoes from the shelves beneath the counter, when I heard Marcus's voice calling to me. "Amelia!" I looked round to see Marcus approaching us with a grin. "Some crazy weather, huh?" He emphasized his words by putting his fingers in his short, wild ashy brown hair and ruffling it so the snow fell off, and his brown eyes sparkled with humor.

I laughed, "Yeah, it's something else, huh?" and Marcus stopped before us. I gestured at Sarah and spoke to Marcus. "Marcus, this is my friend Sarah. Sarah, this is Marcus."

Marcus bowed his head briefly with a lopsided smile. "Pleasure to meet you, Sarah."

Sarah stared as though dazed, then blinked with reddening cheeks. "Pleasure to meet you too." He turned his smile to me, his expression turning to one of question as he inclined his head at the shoe check and inquired as to whether or not we had purchased our rentals.

I replied. "We did just now, he's getting them for us."

Marcus smiled. "I'd better get mine too, then, hadn't I?" I nodded and he stepped around us with a. "Excuse me, ladies." I smiled in amusement after him, and Sarah stepped closer to me.

I hadn't noticed it before, but Sarah was staring at Marcus. My forehead wrinkled at this change. What was wrong with Sarah?

Marcus turned back round and raised three pairs of bowling shoes by the laces up between the three of us.

"Your fashion forward footwear, ladies." Marcus offered. "Maybe we should find a place to sit first. Anywhere catch your fancy?" He turned his own attention to the seating area once Sarah and I had taken our shoes from him.

Sarah pointed out a raised table set behind a group of chairs formed in a 'U' facing two bowling lanes. "Is there alright?" It was near the double glass doors leading to the arcade that shared the building with the alley. The spot was against the wall, and away from the other bowlers so it'd be quieter, and was nearer to the snack bar.

Marcus nodded. "Looks good. Shall we?" He waved a hand forward for us to go ahead. Once we all reached the table, Marcus jerked a thumb towards the snack bar. "Might not be a bad idea to order some food before getting started." After ordering our drinks, Sarah and I settled down at the table while Marcus volunteered to get the game started on the console.

Sarah had fallen silent after making her suggestion to Marcus, and when he had reached the console, she leaned closer to me and murmured. "Are you sure he's not fae?"

I laughed, thinking Sarah was joking. "I'm pretty sure." Sarah didn't look entirely convinced, but before I could ask her why she thought he was fae, Marcus returned to get snacks from the snack bar. He brought back a tray with three square paper bowls loaded with nachos. I liked nachos, but the fake ingredients always made a part of me cringe inside. "I wish they had healthier snacks here. A Jamba wouldn't hurt my feelings." I said, and Sarah hummed her agreement.

Marcus gasped as though offended. "Well excuse me, princess! Not everyone can make homemade meals." He pretended to stumble past our table to the seating area to change his shoes to ones the alley provided, and on his way he spoke. His tone turned teasingly dramatic and he spoke with an Italian accent. "I do awhat I can to survive!" He grinned at me and winked as he sat down, and I rolled my eyes.

Sarah smiled after him, but asked me. "So is Marcus your brother? The way you two interact…" She trailed off when I waved my hand as though to wave away the question.

"Oh, he wishes he was cool enough to be my big brother." I joked loud enough for him to hear, then added. "He teases me often enough, he might as well be my brother." I said, and laughed when Marcus called from his seat by our alley's console.

"Damn straight, Turnip!"

I went red in the face as Sarah echoed him. "'Turnip'?"

I ducked my head, and started to explain. "...Yeah, um… Well…"

Marcus interrupted my weak attempt at an explanation by returning to the table to set his own shoes beneath his seat. "Turnip is my nickname for Amelia, because when she frowns, her face gets all wrinkly like an old turnip. Like this." By way of example, he screwed up his face, making an exaggerated frowning expression. Sarah snorted and clamped her hands over her mouth in embarrassment when Marcus and I laughed, and she joined in when Marcus made the turnip face again.

"Do you two usually act like this at work, too?" Sarah questioned once she had recovered. The expressions on my and Marcus's faces must have been quite serious, because she raised her eyebrows, looking from one to the other of us in surprise.

"No, it would cause problems." I said.

Marcus shook his head 'no' in agreement at the same time I spoke, then he explained. "Our clients manipulate staff whenever they can." His mouth sank into a severe frown. "So it's better to keep everything professional."

Sarah's brow furrowed. "Is it really that bad where you work?"

"Not always." I began. "If you're like Marcus and I, where we treat the clients with respect but are sure to set boundaries, then you have fewer problems that lead to behaviors." I looked round at Marcus as he spoke.

He made a face. "That still doesn't stop them from trying to push your buttons, or from hitting on you."

Sarah's eyes widened. "Seriously?"

I nodded. "It does help, though. They stop after a while." I assured her and added. "But it's still best to never let your guard down."

Sarah shook her head. "That must be so hard-I don't think I could do a job like that."

Marcus shrugged. "It's not so bad after a while. There are good and bad days, but it's fairly calm there most of the time." We fell silent, and Marcus clapped his hands together. "But we're here to have fun, not talk about work." He grinned. "You're up first, Lady Turnip. Good luck."

I rolled my eyes at him and Sarah giggled at us. I hopped down for my tall seat and went to take my turn. It was just barely a spare. "Not too bad." I told myself quietly, then started back towards Marcus and Sarah. Marcus was sitting at the table and turned toward Sarah, his expression bright and a big smile on his face. Her smile was radiant as they talked, and she gestured with both hands as she spoke. She must have said something funny at that moment, because Marcus erupted with genuine laughter. I let them be until Marcus's laughter had died down, then approached.

"Alright, you goober. You're up," I grinned at him as he faced me and then stepped down from his seat. "and you better make it count."

Marcus took a step back, and placing a hand on his chest as though wounded, he cast me an affronted look and gasped. "Does my Lady Turnip offer a challenge?"

I laughed and grinned, offering a delicate nod of acknowledgement. "I do, Sir Goober."

Marcus smirked, breaking his affronted knight character long enough to speak. "Well, then, I best not disappoint." Marcus donned the character again and bowed overdramatically, making us laugh. "Excuse me, Ladies." He said loftily, and went to complete his challenge.

I smiled after him, glad I had agreed to come. No one could make me laugh as much as Marcus could. He was always able to cheer me up. He was also a lot of fun, and I knew he and Sarah would get along.

"Marcus is a pretty great guy." Sarah began, confirming my hopes, and drawing my attention to her. "How did you two meet?"

I shrugged. "It was a few years or so ago, I think." I took a sip of my drink. "We met at work, and some of my coworkers on shift would do game nights on our nights off. Marcus invited me to one, and after a while it became a thing for us." I looked over at Marcus as he was lining up to throw. "Not everyone can do it the same night, so we usually play it by ear."

"But you do hang out often?" Sarah asked, and I nodded.

"Yeah. I consider Marcus a good friend." I took a sip from my drink. "He really is like a brother to me. He always has my back at work and looks out for me."

Sarah's expression became thoughtful, and when Marcus came back to the table grinning, her cheeks reddened ever so slightly. He turned that grin to Sarah. "Your turn, Lady Sarah."

Her cheeks really turned rosy, and she murmured a response.

I watched Marcus watch Sarah, noting how warm his eyes were. Marcus caught me watching him, and his face darkened a fine shade of pink. "What?" I raised my eyebrows and promptly took a long draw from my drink. His eyes narrowed. "Turnip…" He warned.

I laughed, then shook my head. "Just observing." I glanced at Sarah as she waited for her ball to return, then brought my gaze with some seriousness back to Marcus. "What do you think of Sarah?"

This seemed to catch Marcus off guard a little, but he recovered and continued watching Sarah before replying. "She's nice." He raised an eyebrow at me. "Why do you ask?"

"I think she might like you a little bit."

Marcus's face lit up and his eyes widened almost comically. "Yeah?" He paused suddenly to scowl at me. "Are you messing with me? Because I will take back those cinnamon rolls if you are…" He warned. I knew he was joking, but there was enough seriousness in his expression to tell me he was truly interested in Sarah, and that my joking was not appreciated. Plus, cinnamon rolls were at stake.

I gaped at him. "What? No, I'm being serious!" I frowned. "Honestly, Marcus." I glanced at Sarah as she was letting her ball fly for a hopeful spare. "She's really great. She's smart, funny, and beautiful. I don't think you could do any better than her." I told him sincerely.

Marcus studied my face, and I looked back, entirely serious. His expression eased, and he cast his gaze to Sarah.

The light in Marcus's eye dimmed for only half a second, and I caught it when a look of suspicion entered them. "She seems almost…" He paused as though considering the word. "...magical."

My eyebrows shot up at the word, and I stared at Marcus.

He looked back at me with a sudden urgency. "Tell me, how did you meet her?"

He was so serious, so urgent in his question, that I wondered about his abrupt change of demeanor. What was wrong with him? Was he… afraid of Sarah?

"...We met at the mall." I held up my drink a little. "We both got Jambas and pretzels and started talking."

Marcus's serious expression eased slightly. "The mall?" He confirmed.

I nodded. "Yep."

"Oh." He looked almost bewildered, but he didn't question me further.

After that, Marcus seemed to lighten up again, returning to his more cheerful demeanor. But every now and then I noticed when his eyes would lose a bit of their light, and I wondered what he was thinking about.

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A/N: Let me know what you think! And remember to be kind in your criticism; I'm only human and I strive to improve. Thanks!


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Chapter eighteen! Shout out to the fantastic LovelyAmberLight for brainstorming with me on this story. This chapter is all inspired by her!

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth. I own my characters.

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A Writer Required

Chapter Eighteen

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The transportation home had brought me back fully to my senses. And yet here I stood in my study, feeling almost the same as I had before I left.

The distance had caused the connection to weaken, but it was still very much present in my mind. I hated that I had left Amelia alone like that.

But I couldn't go back.

I couldn't risk finishing what we started. I still needed time to come back to myself.

I clenched my jaw, pressing my fists to the top of my desk. I could barely concentrate on my duties. I couldn't go on like this. Standing up straight, I gathered magic and reshaped it as a transportation spell, then let it go.

I reappeared in my bathing chambers and promptly stripped, the large sunken tub in the room's floor beginning to fill with cold water. I went through the usual washing routine and emerged to dry and get dressed. I felt far more focused once I had finished, and I returned to my study to immerse myself in work.

Not a minute later, a knock at the door and a muffled voice announced a messenger from the outer wall. I bade him enter, and he did, bowing once he reached the desk. "Well?" I prompted him.

The goblin bowed again as though he'd forgotten he already had. He probably had. I kept away an amused smile, and the goblin spoke. "There's a cranky friend of your father's, and a pregnant lady outside the Labyrinth wall wanting to talk to you. They arrived on a small carriage and without an escort." My eyebrows went up a little at this. An odd occurrence for those of such a small party-and one of them being pregnant no less-to travel the Underground without their own escort. My eyebrows lowered. Any friends of my father that we're respectable-or that I knew about-would have written me first out of common courtesy. So either the man was desperate, or he had something to hide.

I thought a moment on it, then nodded to the goblin. "Send a collection of guards and let the visitors in. Have the guards guide them directly to the castle." In remembering the pregnant woman, I added. "Make sure the lady visitor rides their carriage. It's much too long a walk for her. Bring them here to my study once they arrive at the castle." It was best to be specific when dealing with goblins. Or any creature of intelligence, really.

These strangers preferred a certain level of anonymity, based on their unescorted arrival. The study was best in that case. Far less likely to attract unwanted ears.

The goblin bowed deferentially. "Yes, Your Majesty. At once." I dismissed him, and he hurried from the room to complete his task. I gestured at the single chair before my desk, and it moved over to allow another, more cushioned armchair to appear in its place. Regardless of who the woman was, she was pregnant and likely exhausted from her journey. A more comfortable chair was certainly in order.

Half an hour passed and I had put away all the state documents I had been working on, when another knock rapped on my door, and with a word from me, the same goblin as before, entered. "Your Majesty." He bowed. "They're here."

I straightened in my seat, then gestured at the door. "Bring them in."

The goblin shuffled into the study, opening the door and standing beside it to allow the visitors to enter.

A slimy looking, narrow eyed man made his way into the study. He wore excessively fine clothes, though they were dusty from travel, which was to be expected from a long journey in an open carriage. He was balding, what hair he had left was in a wispy white half circle on his head. Two beady, dark eyes peered at me from a pale, pudgy face. He gave off a proud, self-important air that was nearly potent; and it made me immediately dislike him.

Behind him came a woman, possibly around Amelia's age. She came in at a much slower pace, for the obvious reason. She had long midnight hair, and eyes like the nighttime sea. Her clothes were as dusty as his, though nowhere near as fine. Her countenance was haggard. She appeared as though she'd been through Hell and back.

My eyes flit between them. He was much older than she was. Perhaps he was her father?

Once in the room, they murmured greetings and the man offered a bow to me, and the woman a timid curtsy, respectively. I gestured for them to rise, and they were quick to do so. I dismissed the guard with a glance, and he left the room, closing the door behind him.

Exchanging a quiet breath with the study, I addressed him. "I'm told that you knew my father, but I have no recollection of you." I raised an imperious eyebrow. "Kindly introduce yourselves." It was bluntly said, and the man before me momentarily scrambled for a reply.

"F-Forgive me, my Lord. I am called Eret of the white horse house." He rested a hand upon his chest briefly, gaining some confidence in the action, then pointed with a slight frown at the woman beside him. "This is my daughter, Aerol." His eyes slipped to the chairs, and I gestured at them.

"I see. Have a seat, you must be tired from your long journey." I lifted both eyebrows pointedly.

Eret moved quickly forward, his eyes deciding the chair he'd take. He eased himself into the more comfortable of the two; taking the one I'd meant for his very pregnant daughter. Aerol took her father's lack of compassion with no other expression save resignation. She was used to it. What else was she 'used to'?

I retained a scowl. I would help him remember his forgotten duties as a father, before the day was through. My gaze passed over to Aerol. I needed more information. Their body language and expressions told me more about them in the first few fleeting seconds of their arrival, than their words could. Truthfully, in any case. Words could lie, but the language of ones face and body spoke truth unless trained to do otherwise.

I remained silently waiting until they both had seated themselves. Eret lounged in the seat, and crossing his legs at the knees, he rested his arms on the armrests with an expression that told me he thought I'd purposefully put the chair there for him. Presumptuous sod.

Aerol sat in the chair left for her, her face softening and her eyes closing with relief once she'd settled. Wrinkles of pain had marred her face until this moment. Now she looked as though she could have fallen asleep. I was glad I'd insisted she ride the carriage earlier. I didn't expect them to walk, but it was best to be clear. Renewed disdain for her father filled me, but I kept the feeling from showing by masking it with polite interest.

"So. Friend of my father," I began, and Eret puffed himself up like a ridiculous peacock, thinking himself grand for the supposed connection. I could care less about how important he thought he was. Frankly, I was skeptical about him and my father truly being 'friends'. At the moment, I cared more for his daughter, who seemed to be struggling to stay awake. Steepling my fingers against my lips, I studied him with sharpening eyes. "Why have you come?"

Eret lowered his crossed legs, shifting in his seat. The expression of grand importance waned on his face. "Ah. Well," He shot a dark glance at Aerol, before returning his gaze to me. "My fool of a daughter went and fell in love with one of the princes from the dark Fae court. She is-or was-the bodyguard for the diplomat stationed there." Eret scowled. "But the dark fae prince has been murdered, and she is with child. The prince's child and heir." Eret crossed his legs once more, then continued. "From what information I gathered from the dark court; they know that the prince had taken a lover and that that lover is with child. But they do not know the lover's identity." He leveled a look at me. "Once it's known she is expecting, the diplomat will release her from his service, and the court will discover who the father of her child is. They'll kill her, and if they don't, she will never be able to return to her previous duties." Eret's eyes soured with disgust. "She is ruined now, and cannot marry another."

Jareth read between the lines. Eret was not concerned for his daughter-he was concerned about himself! The pig wanted a nicer pen; to be elevated in society to a higher position.

I took a breath, and exhaled it as I leaned forward, resting my arms and clasping my hands on the desk. He clearly wanted something, and he'd have to work very, very hard for me to even consider it. Pinning him in place with my gaze, I questioned. "And just what am I supposed to do about it?"

Eret spoke without hesitation. "Take the child. I would wish it away as soon as it's born, but she has already refused to allow me to take care of the child. Your goblins will not take it for that reason, so I want you to make her give up the child."

Aerol had seemed to have been dozing previously, but at her father's words, she returned rapidly into a state of alertness. "What?! You can't-!" She protested.

"-Be silent, you foolish girl!" Eret snapped furiously back. "You've made your mess, now I have to take care of it."

I stared. Disgust with Eret most prominent in my mind, I kept a carefully neutral expression upon my face. The dark fae would kill Aerol and the baby if I refused. The new rulers of the dark court would take control, and war would accompany them to the rest of the world. Innocent lives would be taken, entire cities decimated. That was something I would not allow to transpire if I could help it.

"Enough." I commanded, and they fell silent. I studied them both, thoughtful. A sudden sense of peace and calm fell over me, settling my nerves and sharpening my mind. It brought clarity to the situation before me, and for a moment I kept still. An idea came to mind, and I felt a great deal of relief as it lay itself before me. Now if only it would work.

At last I stood from my seat, turning to begin walking around the desk. "Aerol." Her eyes flew to me from her father, fear and anger within them.

The fire in her eyes brightened, and her words were as fierce as they were noble. "No one is taking my baby, and I'm not giving him up."

I folded my arms, thinking, then at last replied. "You were once the ambassador's bodyguard." I meant it as a confirmation, and Aerol hesitated before nodding a 'yes'. "What were your duties specifically?"

Aerol's brow wrinkled with bewilderment, but nonetheless she answered my question. "As an armed bodyguard, I protected the ambassador from harm. I had to plan ahead for his safety when traveling, and I inspected all carriages and the locations he would be visiting."

In hearing this, I was quick to respond. "I see. And would you be willing to submit your services to me, if I can keep you and your child safe?"

Aerol's eyes widened. "Yes." There was no hesitation.

"Done." I smiled lightly, and I noted Eret's face had turned a nasty shade of pink. I went on before he could intervene. Looking at him, I asked. "Will you give your daughter to me to wife?"

"What?" Aerol protested. "No!"

The color of Eret's face lightened considerably, and an eager gleam entered his eyes and the slight tilt in his growing smirk. I could nearly see the manipulative wheels in his mind turning. He was seeing his daughter as goblin queen; a status that would raise his family into a higher position of power. It hit me that he would not have heard the rumor about my secret marriage.

My suspicions were confirmed as Eret disregarded his daughter's words. "Yes!" Speaking the words of ceremony, Eret gave his daughter to me. "I, Eret, give my daughter Aerol to you, Jareth, to wife."

Pale with horror, Aerol came to her feet with surprising nimbleness, her eyes darting to the door, and her feet not far behind them.

Before she could do more than turn, I reached out swiftly and grasped her hand, finalizing the marriage. "I, Jareth, take Aerol, daughter of Eret, as esteemed concubine, and claim the child within her to be as my own." Both father and daughter froze in shock.

Eret's face darkened furiously. "You tricked me! The laws of concubines are ancient-they no longer apply! Concubines only have claim to an inheritance if there is no queen or heir!"

I laughed dryly, and Aerol turned to face me out of apprehension, though my words were aimed at her foul father. "What's done is done." My eyes narrowed. "And you no longer have a right to her future. Just be grateful I don't send you to the bog of eternal stench." Eret opened his mouth in a snarl, but I waved a hand dismissively, and he promptly vanished.

Aerol stared, terrified, from where her father had been standing, over to me, and she backed away when I stepped closer. The fear in her eyes mounted, and I waved my hand again, this time sending us both to the sitting room of my chambers.

She tried at once to free her hand from mine, and I spoke to calm her. "Be still. I won't harm you, and I have no intention of consummating the union." Aerol stopped still at my words. "These chambers are the most secure of any in the castle; I wanted to be sure we would not have unwanted ears listening in." I gestured to the two plump couches near the five. "Please sit and rest, and I will explain."

In a daze, she did so. She didn't seem to quite believe what I was saying. I would have to explain, I knew, but a moment to think beforehand would be helpful. Waving my hand at the ground before her feet, I conjured a small round table covered with platters of roast chicken, fruits and vegetables, and a variety of breads and finally desserts. Another gesture conjured a pitcher full of icy water and two crystal chalices.

I nodded my head at the food. "I imagine you are quite hungry after your journey. Is there anything not present that you prefer?" Mutely, Aerol shook her head in the negative. Satisfied, I walked to the low burning fire in the fireplace and laid two more logs atop it. Straightening up, I returned and sat on the couch adjacent to her. Timidly, she began to fill a plate, and I waited a few minutes after she was eating to explain.

"What I am going to tell you now stays between us, and does not leave this room. Are you content with that?" I asked, and Aerol nodded seriously, letting me know I had her word. "Good." I plucked an apple from the platter, turning it in my hands but not yet eating it. "Your arrival today is fortuitous."

Aerol's brow furrowed. "So you are only helping me because it's convenient for you?" Her words were heavy with indignation.

I frowned. "No. I would have given both you and your child refuge, regardless of your timing." Coming to my feet, I placed the apple on the edge of the table and filled the chalices with water. Placing one beside her plate and lifting my own to my lips, I drank deeply, then lowered it to speak. "That you come now is good." Picking the apple up again, I spoke as I sat down in my previous spot on the couch. "I need your assistance with an issue I am currently facing."

Aerol looked bewildered. "How could I help?"

"You agreed to be a bodyguard in my service, if I could keep you and your baby safe. Correct?" I said, and Aerol nodded. I took another brief drink and went on. "In truth, I do have a wife. However, for the time being, I must keep her identity a secret." I inclined my head at Aerol. "I need you to pretend to be the goblin queen, in order to keep the true queen safe."

"This way, I can truthfully say you are my wife, and keep you safe. This will also protect your child. Because the whole of the underground will believe you are my wife, and the child is mine, the dark fae court will not be able to harm you." Aerol took a small sip of her water, her eyes large as they focused on me. I pressed on. "The dark fae will not be able to take power so long as your child lives, and that will keep them from breaching the peace." The fact that Aerol is Fae, would also ward off any rumors of his wife being mortal; keeping Amelia safe.

"What will you do if the prince is alive? If he were to come for me?" She asked.

I replied, reminding her of the Fae law. "My claim on you as my concubine isn't sealed unless we were to consummate the contract. As neither of us have any intention of doing so, you will be free to leave if the dark prince were to return, and our contract will be void."

Amazement filled Aerol's countenance, rendering her without words, her face radiant with hope. "I… Thank you, your majesty!" She breathed, tears gathering in her eyes.

I smiled warmly at her. "Jareth will do. You should eat. Once you are finished, I will show you to the queen's chambers."

Aerol finished shortly after, and I led her from the room into a hallway that connected the king's and queen's chambers, and the nursery between them.

I marched down the hallway, hesitating at the double doors leading into Teren's nursery. I forced myself to explain the room to her, though we did not enter it. "This is the nursery. There is a door that joins it with your chambers." Aerol nodded and we continued. Teren's doors had made me hesitate, but Tasha's doors further down the hall stopped me still. My hand hovered over one of the handles a moment. I rarely entered these rooms anymore. The memory of their deaths opened the old wounds each time I did.

I took a breath, then grasped both handles and pushed the doors gently open. I always half expected to see Tasha sitting and playing with Teren on the intricate rug on the floor, between the two chaise lounges near the fireplace.

The room was decorated in white and gold, accented here and there with soft sky blues, peony pinks, and pale warm yellows, and the occasional jasmine blossom design in gold. This room was always soothing to me, as if her presence lingered still.

"Jareth…?" Breathed Aerol in an anxious voice, breaking the spell of memories that had taken hold of me.

"Forgive me." I apologized, moving to one side to allow her to enter. Aerol did, and I felt a measure of pride at her wide-eyed, awed expression as she took in the sitting room. Tasha herself had designed the queen's chambers. All of the past queens did so at the beginning of their reign.

"It's beautiful." She complimented, confirming my observation of her reaction.

I inclined my head at the room, gesturing widely with one hand as though to encompass the whole of it. "It's yours for the time being. You may change it if you like, or leave it the way it is."

Aerol walked the sitting room, and I stopped beside the fireplace to allow her to continue through the bed chamber doors to inspect both it and the bathing chamber herself. I wasn't needed for that. Aerol appeared again a short time later, looking more at ease. "It has a very calming atmosphere," She began, and I nodded as she approached the chaise lounge to my left. She sat carefully, and I replied as she settled in.

"It does. The previous queen designed it so." I explained, then looked to the clock on the fireplace mantel as it gently chimed. I smiled to myself at the sound before remembering Aerol. I cleared my throat. "I will have your dinner brought here tonight to allow you to rest. If there is anything in particular that you like or do not like, let the maid know. She will come in early to ask. If you need me, I am just at the end of the hall. You need only call, and I will come."

I found myself retreating from the room as soon as she thanked me. Once back in my own chambers, I leaned back against the doors and breathed a sigh of relief. Amelia was safe, and Aerol would help me keep her that way.

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A/N: Thanks for reading!


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Here's chapter nineteen! A very special thanks to LovelyAmberLight for her help! **A quick warning** : it gets a bit intense further on in this chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth.

A Writer Required

Chapter Nineteen

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I had returned home from a trip to the grocery store, when Jack saw me and began making his way across the street. I managed to get my purse and groceries out of the car and to lock it, but before I could make my escape, he stopped in front of me. "Hey Amelia, could I talk to you for a second?" He seemed a little off-nervous, even-and he stood too close.

I took a step away as though shifting my weight, but really his sudden intimate proximity made me uncomfortable, and I wanted to put more distance between us.

I studied his face fleetingly, wondering what was wrong. Reluctantly I replied, "What?" and began toward my house with carefully swift steps. As often as the sidewalks were shoveled, an errant ice patch or two always managed to find its way beneath somebody's shoes, and I really didn't want Jack trying to tend to me should one of those ice patches find mine.

We were coming up on my door now, and I reached into my bag and retrieved my keys. I'd been working on keeping them handy at all times. The stalker-burglar and Jack's own over attentive attentions, had warranted such precautions.

I could feel his eyes as they traveled upon me, and I felt more uncomfortable by the second. Suddenly I had a feeling that I really didn't want him seeing what key I used to get into my house, and feeling a little bewildered and certainly alarmed by the sudden feeling, I subtly slipped the entire key ring into my coat pocket. Feeling apprehensive, I faced him fully. "Was there something you needed?" Jack's eyes became focused on my chest when I turned around, and a distinctly wary feeling hit me.

Why was it the man always looked at me as though I were naked? 'Maybe I should start wearing one of those large overly puffy coats that goes to your knees.' I thought wryly. Jareth would probably be amused by the wardrobe change, and that alone made the idea worth the consideration. Well, until I realized that he would ask me why I was doing it. I doubted Jack would last very long after my explanation.

"Uh...Uh, yeah." Jack stuttered, his gaze still where it ought not to be.

I glared pointedly at him, and my face darkened as I clenched my jaw in anger. I crossed my arms. "Jack. What did you need?" I was about to call him out on his inappropriate ogling when he blinked, and raised his gaze to meet my own tempestuous one.

He paled marginally, sheepish. "Oh-Oh right, that." Jack recovered and jerked his thumb over his shoulder at his house. "My kitchen ceiling started leaking, and I noticed some tiles on my roof had come off with that last storm." He gestured up and down the street. "I wanted to check with everyone to see if they want me to have a look at their roofs to patch them up if needed." He returned his attention to me, and I felt again as though he were dressing me down.

I took an instinctive step back, and frowned at him. "Thanks, but if my roof has a leak, I'll hire a professional." I pulled my keys from my pocket and crowded the door to hide the key to my house. I put the keys into my purse, then shifted my groceries in my arms to open the door.

I began to open it, when Jack placed his hand over mine, stopping me. I stared in alarm at him and tensed, altering my footing into a steadier stance in case I needed to bodily remove him from my doorway. "I can take care of it." I said a bit louder, bristling in anger. He was about five seconds from receiving a serious verbal-and possibly physical-defensive assault.

He hurried to speak. "But professionals cost a lot of money-and I could do it for free!"

"My roof doesn't have a leak, Jack. So thanks, but no thanks."

I started to turn away when Jack moved forward until his chest was brushing my arm. "It might not have one now, but I could take a look at it anyway… You never know-it could have a leak if you're not careful." He emphasized his words like a warning, then went on. "And I wonder...does your boyfriend know you have a man visiting you for hours on end when he's not around?" He smiled like the cat that caught the canary, before he'd washed it down with cream. He continued, his eyes lowering to look me over. "I might be persuaded not to say anything, if we can come to some kind of...arrangement."

I stared at him.

He had to be joking.

It was a sick, twisted mess of a joke, but he had to be joking.

Internally, I was panicking about the fact he'd seen Jareth. Externally, I was growing furious.

The pig! He was threatening to actually put a hole in my roof unless I agreed to let him look at it! Worse still, he was threatening to tell Andrew about Jareth-which would infuriate Andrew-and I realized he didn't know Jareth was who I was doing a project for. He just knew that it was a project.

Worst of all, Jack was blackmailing me into sleeping with him, in order to keep him from telling Andrew.

Well, that sure as the sun wasn't going to happen.

I moved away from Jack, my expression settling into a severe frown. "Leave. Now."

Jack's gaze hardened and fell several shades shy of angry. "Then I'll just tell Andrew about your 'secret friend'."

I felt cold, but I partially mirrored his tone while keeping my expression stern. "Then you'll just be making a big fool out of yourself." Jack's face gained some confusion.

"How?" He demanded.

"My 'secret friend'," I sharply told him, "is not secret at all. He is actually someone who commissioned me for a project. He comes over to discuss it with me." I added, glaring at him in disgust. "And Andrew's met him." I pointed at the street. "Now you know, get off my property."

Jack was about to reply, when a deep voice nearby called. "Is there a problem here?" We both turned. My fifty-something neighbor, Warren, who lived one house over, was standing on his porch with a rolled up newspaper in his hands. He didn't appear to be about to read it, based on how he held it. If anything, his body language indicated sudden action would soon be implemented.

This particular neighbor wasn't overly friendly towards me normally, so his sudden intervention was surprising-and more welcome than I could possibly begin to express.

"No!" Jack blurted, looking a bit panicked. He tried to appear casual when he did it, but he practically flew down the stairs in his haste.

Warren watched Jack like a hawk until he disappeared into his house, then glanced at me as if to see if I was alright. Seeing no damage was done, he spoke coolly. "Are you alright?" I nodded, and he advised. "Call the police next time he harasses you." Without another word, he turned and went into his house.

I don't think I've ever entered my house so fast in my life. I doubted Jack would be coming back over for a long while, but I'd rather not find out. Going inside, I locked the door firmly and leaned my back against it with relief. Safe. I was safe.

My mind ran over what had happened. Jack coming onto me and issuing threats? That was strange. Beyond strange. He'd been creepy before, sure, but this behavior was bizarre.

I shuddered in disgust, feeling like I'd been submerged in a lake of sewer sludge. I'd often felt this way when talking to Jack, but not anywhere as bad as today. If the 'No feeling' was a person, it would be Jack.

Making sure the door was locked, I put my groceries away, then hurried to build up the fire and started it. I let the fire warm up the house a bit before removing my coat and going to my room. My back was beginning to ache, and I needed a serious shower for it.

A thud and shuffling, followed by a gravelly voice grumbling incoherently, came from the kitchen.

I froze midway through gathering a change of clothes. My baseball bat was within reach, and quietly I exchanged it with my clothes. Hefting my baseball bat up as my means of defense, I peeked around the corner, entirely alert. Was someone breaking in again? A sickening thought hit me. Would Jack break in? But it wasn't Jack. It wasn't at all what I expected.

It wasn't even human.

From my knowledge, it had to be a goblin. It had a pig-like nose, and dark olive green skin, two large yellow eyes, and small pointed teeth. It wore a tunic that was grey and black, and I could just see the tops of its loose boots above the counter where it was sitting in the empty kitchen sink, cookies shoved in its mouth and crumbs falling like sad, delicious little snowflakes onto its chest. One arm was wrapped around the cookie box, and the other was reaching for more of the treats inside it.

"What...?" I questioned. I don't know if I couldn't form a full sentence, or maybe I just expected him to know the question unasked-but I hoped very much he'd answer it. The question of: "What are you, and what are you doing here?"

"Eatin'-" Mumbled the goblin around his mouthful of cookies. He ducked his head, struggling to swallow the chipmunk cheeked mouthful. Once he managed it, he took a deep breath and launched his hand into the box for more. "-cookies."

"Yeah. I can see that." I stated in dry indignation. Those cookies were the one expensive treat I allowed myself to buy. And now a random goblin was stuffing his face with them! "Care to explain why you're here?"

The goblin shoved another handful of cookies into his mouth and nodded obligingly as he chewed. I glowered at him. He ducked his head again, but this time seemed to struggle with swallowing. I was beginning to grow concerned for him when his eyes bulged, but before I could do more than take a step toward him, he swallowed and straightened up as though he hadn't possibly just been choking to death. "King send me." He gasped, thumping his chest with his cookie freed fist and grunting to clear his throat. Those words stirred me out of my stupor, making way for a frown to settle upon my lips.

"Jareth sent you? Why?" I paused, looking him over in hopes of discovering some clue to the answer. When none presented itself, I continued on instead with a question. "Did he send you with a message?"

"Yes." Replied a different voice. I raised the baseball bat slightly higher and faced the kitchen entrance. I didn't raise it too high, though, because I realized when the voice had spoken, it was likely that Jareth had sent more than one goblin. The cookie thief munched loudly. He seemed unable to deliver much more to me than a brief message, and irritation. I returned my focus to the second visitor to my kitchen.

A boy roughly three feet tall stood leaning, his arms and legs crossed, against the kitchen door frame. Beyond him I could see the fireplace flames tickling the chimney, filling the house with a pleasant warmth. Even so, a chill shot down my spine in alarm. How had they gotten in? I studied the the boy. He was thin and wore a green, faintly glimmering high collared jacket. He had trousers tucked into knee high bark-brown boots. The entire ensemble reminded me of the elves in 'Lord of the Rings', though his long pointed ears and short height, were a difference from that image. He looked more like a child than a man, though his eyes were wizened as though with years of knowledge.

"I'm Baard. He is Kracker." He bowed his head to me with more respect than I thought really necessary for me. "I apologize for our startling you. The King said it was better just to transport ourselves inside, than it was to knock and wait out in plain sight."

"And it's cold." The goblin added with a shiver, speaking around another mouthful of cookies. I glowered.

The elf huffed in exasperation. "I told you not to touch anything! Why do you goblins never listen?" The goblin glared at him, then pointedly shoved another handful into his mouth, looking like a chipmunk, and chewed with vigor. Baard huffed in an echo of his earlier exasperation, leaning away from the doorframe to approach us. I lowered the bat carefully until it's dangerous end rested upon the linoleum floor, and I put some of my weight on it like it was a cane. My back and left leg were beginning to act up as our conversation progressed. I leaned on my right leg to alleviate the pain and numbness in my left.

"You said you had a message?" I remarked with emphasis, hoping to speed along the process. Maybe a bath and not a shower was in order. "What is it?"

Baard stopped beside his goblin comrade, casting him a glance that they exchanged before the goblin continued terrorizing the box of cookies. The elf's look of exasperation faded as his eyes returned to mine. "The King sends his apologies." My eyebrows went up, threatening my hairline. His apologies? For what? I wondered. Then his last visit came to mind, and my cheeks gained some color. Oh. Right.

Baard continued. "He is detained by his duties and cannot come for the next two days you were scheduled to meet. He promises to return the following week, and urges you to make good use of your free time given."

My eyebrows went a little higher. Wow. A whole week without Jareth? This was beyond weird. He'd become such a regular visitor, it was strange for him not to be around. My heart sunk, but at the same time I was a bit relieved. Our last meeting had ended so awkwardly, that part of me had been dreading his return. But now with the extra free time, I could really get some work done, and also better work out my own feelings about the situation. I knew now he hadn't intended for it to go that far; I needed to let him know that I appreciated and am grateful for his choice to stop when he could have stayed. He'd respected that I had a choice, and that at that moment, I couldn't really make one. He was protecting both of us.

Baard spoke, drawing my attention back to the present. "The king will send you notes by courier, who will likely be another goblin." He said this last part as though in warning, pointedly avoiding looking at the goblin nearby. The goblin fixed him with a suspicious stare, then shoved another handful of cookies into his mouth and chewed slowly as he contemplated the elf with narrowed eyes.

Baard went on as if he hadn't noticed. "Just so you are aware."

I nodded, fighting a smile at the goblin's suspicious glower aimed at Baard. "I understand. That'll be fine." I said, and the goblin's suspicious glare turned surprised and smug when he looked at me, then at Baard.

Baard returned my smile, bowed as he had before, and spoke. "Very well, my lady. We will bid you farewell, then." He gestured almost sternly at the goblin and turned toward the kitchen archway. I felt my headache starting up, and winced, rubbing my forehead with my fingers. Some medicine and rest were added to my to do list. I gave a start when the goblin scrambled out of the sink and lurched to the ground, landing on his feet and scurrying after Baard, the box of cookies clutched to his dirty chest. I opened my mouth to protest, but I realized I probably didn't want them back. I had no idea where his hands had been, and there probably wasn't much left, anyway. I'd just have to buy another box instead. And hide them.

Before Baard reached the archway-which somehow I knew or guessed was where they'd leave from-I called his name.

The elf looked round at me in question, but did an about face and inquired. "Yes, my lady?"

My headache grew stronger and I fought down a wince, leaning against my bedroom door frame. "Will you tell Jareth something for me?" Baard inclined his head that he would, and I continued. "Please tell him I understand, and that I hope he is well."

Baard smiled, as though my words were pleasing to him. "I will be glad to give my king this message."

I smiled gratefully. He seemed like a really nice elf. "I appreciate it." I replied, and Baard bowed shortly, then turned back to the archway. I felt there was something else I needed to say, but I couldn't find the words. My mind just drew a blank. Bewildered by this, I nearly missed it when Baard and the goblin walked through the archway of the kitchen, and promptly vanished from my home.

The air felt different than before. Lighter. But there was almost a feeling like residual magic. As if an unseen mist hung in the doorway leading into the living room, and was now fading away.

Some of it seemed to be latching onto the doorway, settling into the grains of the wood. I looked after it, remaining in the kitchen, and wondering at it. Jareth never left anything like that-but then, he usually came in and out through the front door. Perhaps it acted as a portal for future use for the goblins Baard had mentioned? I didn't mind-though I wished he would've asked me first.

My eyes trailed to the front door, and I couldn't help worrying about Jareth. This type of situation had never happened before. I worried something was wrong in the kingdom. I began to feel antsy; like I should be doing something. I moved toward the living room, pausing in the kitchen only long enough to take some painkillers. I paused before the arch going into the living room, still acutely aware of the residual magic. It had faded, like paint as it changes shades when it dries, though the smell is still present.

I took a breath, and stepped through. The air in the archway felt lighter, and as I passed through it, I half expected to appear someplace else. To my relief, my living room greeted me instead. The last thing I needed was to accidentally walk through a portal to another world, especially one that was sitting smack in the middle of my house.

I limped to the couch and eased onto my back on it, exhaling with relief when the pain lessened a little. I shut my eyes, savoring the rare feeling, and just focused on breathing for the moment. Eyes still shut, I lay the baseball bat on the floor in front of the couch, then rolled my makeshift weapon until it was just beneath the furniture.

A few minutes passed, and the feeling that I should be doing something gradually built. I opened my eyes in question, and looked down to my laptop where it rested beside the couch. "Oh. Right, writing." Carefully I pulled the laptop up and rested it on my abdomen. Opening the computer, the feeling of urgency pressed me, and I opened a new document. My fingers were typing away on the keys before I quite knew what I was doing. My eyes widened a little, and I paused to read aloud what I'd written once I was finished.

"A sense of peace and calm fell over Jareth, settling his nerves and sharpening his mind, and offered clarity for the situations he faced."

I took a breath once I'd finished reading, and when I exhaled, the feeling that I should be doing something passed, and peace filled me. My eyelids felt heavy, and I yawned. I was so tired, and I realized I wasn't hurting as much. 'The medicine must have kicked in.' I thought. Stifling a second yawn behind my hand, I saved the document and shut the laptop. As I was sliding it back beneath the couch, I wondered at what I'd written. It was such an odd thing to do, and yet… Why did it feel like I'd helped Jareth somehow just now?

I fell asleep there on the couch, and I awoke a few hours later to see my phone had received several texts from Andrew while I'd been sleeping. I sighed a little in seeing his name and rolled over from my back onto my side on the couch with a hiss of pain. I read the most recent text. "Hey Babe, just checking to see how you're doing. You haven't texted me back, so if it's alright, I thought I'd stop by with some pizza around 6:30, after I get off work. Let me know if that'll work for you or not. I'll stop by anyway to make sure you're OK."

My eyes traveled sluggishly up the screen of my phone to read the clock.

6:26pm.

Panic and dismay hit me. I felt too nauseous to eat, and Andrew was likely already on his way over. Frustrated, I turned my face into the pillow, then brought my phone to my ear. Siri's command tone sounded and I tilted my head to one side enough that the device could hear me speak. "Text Andrew." I told it.

Siri responded, "OK, what do you want to say to Andrew?" and I waited for the command tone so that I could speak.

"Sorry I didn't reply. Not feeling good. Won't be able to eat pizza. Need to sleep." I said, and after Siri asked if I was ready to send it, and I said, "Send." I started to doze off again.

Not two seconds later, a knock on the front door sounded, making me come out of my dozing state to tense in alarm, and an instant of fear made my body feel cold. Was Jack back? Blinking the sleep away, the cold faded as I realized it was unlikely. He'd gotten his answers, the rat, and in the process revealed to me just how foul of a person he really was. I hadn't pegged him for that kind of man-having the deviousness to think and then try to blackmail me-it infuriated me that he had done such a thing, and it infuriated me further that I had misread him. I should have seen or sensed something that indicated that he wasn't who he appeared to be.

It had to be Andrew, then. I was half tempted to pretend that I hadn't heard him. I was still mad at him for his behavior at the Bocelli's. He hadn't made any indication that he was going to apologize to Jareth or Sarah. He told me he was sorry, but the anger at Jareth still lurked in his eyes and tone, and it bothered me.

He knocked again. I frowned, and settled back down on the couch. Until he planned to apologize to Jareth and Sarah, he could eat his pizza alone at his apartment. I could feel his frustration on the other side of the door as he called my name. "Amelia? Are you there? I've brought a pizza!" I realized he must not have gotten my text yet.

Sure enough, his text tone alert sound announced him receiving it. I waited as he fell silent, reading the text. The frustration that he'd built outside on my porch evaporated into understanding. I heard his phone's keyboard clicking away, and a moment later my screen lit up when I received his text. "Ok. I hope you get feeling better. If you need anything, let me know." His footsteps were already traveling down the stairs and fading away, when I replied with a simple thumbs up emoji.

I stayed there a moment, just watching the fire. It took more than a little effort, but I managed to hobble back to my room to plug my phone in at the bedside table, and picked up my gathered clothes. I'd take a bath, then sleep on the couch to stay warm by the fire. I wanted to wear an oversized button up shirt I'd once used to paint in. It was billowy and comfortable, and I knew I wouldn't get too hot.

The choice should have been simple to make-it usually was-but a bad feeling kept nagging at me to wear the old sweater and pants I had.

That didn't make sense. Why would I do that? I'd be far too hot!

The thought occurred to me that I'd be cold when the fire went down, but I reminded myself that I could put extra logs on before I went to sleep. I'd be fine. Worrying was silly.

Having decided on this, I got ready for the bath and removed Jareth's ring. I went to place it on the counter, and my hand bumped against the faucet and the ring sailed downward into the drain, rattling wildly like a pinball in the pipe. I had a moment of panic before I remembered that the drain had a sink trap, and all I had to do was remove it to retrieve the ring. But that was something that would be best to wait until after I'd taken a bath and had some rest. The ring was safe, and my worry for it abated.

The aches and pains eased some during the bath, and I felt a little better than I had before. My leg was no longer as weak as it had been. Once dressed, I returned to the living room. I built the fire as high as safety would allow, and went back to the couch to loosely braid my hair.

I snuggled down into the couch with the blanket, and that same earlier feeling tried to get my attention. I made a face. I was perfectly fine like this. I wasn't going to change. That thought was resolved, but the feeling remained. Ignoring it, I closed my eyes, and went promptly to sleep.

It was some time during the middle of the night that something woke me. The fire had died down to embers, leaving the room warm but getting chilly. Disorientated, I was confused as to why I was awake. The floor creaking next to the couch made my hair stand on end-and I gaped up in terror when I discovered the cause.

Jack was standing above me. His eyes burned with anger, lust, and a determination that made my terror rise, one hundred times over.

Before I could do more than attempt to sit up, Jack grabbed me by my forearms, and pulled me off of the couch onto the floor. I tried to yank my arms out of his hands to push him away, but the glint of a thick plastic zip tie shone on my wrists, keeping them together.

He'd zip tied my hands together while I'd been asleep.

"NO! LET GO OF ME!" My shout didn't even make a dent in his flinty exterior. In an instant he was straddling my legs, and my heart jumped into panicked overdrive.

Pushing my hands above my head, Jack pulled up my shirt.

It reached my mid section and I felt my stomach sink in dread. At the same time I screamed. "HELP! SOMEONE HELP ME-"

Snarling, Jack punched me in the face. The pain accompanying it brought my scream to a halt, leaving me gasping for breath. My left eye and my face around it throbbed, and something warm trickled down the side of my face. But it wasn't until Jack pulled his fist back to brush his hair out of his eyes, that I saw my blood on his knuckles. "Warren's not here to save you this time." Jack growled.

No one would be near enough to hear me-and there was no way I was going to wait. I couldn't wait. I had to do something. I had to stop him and get away. 'I wish…' My thoughts stopped still, and my eyes widened, then narrowed. A wish! I needed to use Wishspell!

Jack bent forward to kiss me, and I noticed just in time to turn my head away. Unperturbed, he aimed for somewhere lower.

Disgusted, I scowled at him as I shuddered and gasped in a breath. I had to try even if it didn't work-it might still buy me some time. Time enough to get away from him. With what hope I had left, I shouted loud and clear. "I WISH THE GOBLINS-"

Jack sat up, and at first his expression was contorted with anger, and I thought he might hit me again. But then a grin spread across his lips and he chuckled in victorious contempt at my words. "Go on, then. There'll be no help from him."

My whole body froze. Frigid, as ice.

Wait-He… Did he know Jareth!? Or was he merely mocking me?!

I fixed my eyes on Jack's, gauging his expression, but there were no signs he was lying.

He was gloating too much for that.

Having said that, he continued his foul attentions, beginning to unbutton my shirt. His hand began to wander and my stomach flipped again sickly, launching nausea into my throat.

Panicking, I shouted more of the spell. "-REALLY WOULD COME AND-" Jack straightened up, and one of the foul man's hands traveled down to my hip, and fear shot to my legs. I shifted, attempting to knee him in the groin.

He stopped to catch my leg, and held it fast, his sickening grin growing slimier. "Feisty, hmm? Good. I'll enjoy it more."

I screamed at him in fury, struggling to get free. "TAKE YOU AWAY-!"

He growled and hit me again, this time a solid punch that connected with my cheek and the corner of my mouth. The same pain as before now presented itself there, and a thin trail of blood began to make a path down my bottom lip onto my chin. Dazed, I struggled to take in and let out a breath, and my eyes stung with tears when Jack continued what he'd started.

The last of the spell came out in a sob. "...Right...now..."

Nothing happened.

Jack had gone still. As if he, too, had expected something to happen. When nothing did, he sneered and lowered himself to kiss my mouth.

It was so sudden.

The air around us grew heavy, compacted as if with many bodies. Jack's lips brushed mine when it happened, and he went quite still.

Magic swarmed around Jack. No-it was more than magic. It was goblins.

They were everywhere. Seeming almost to be squeezed between this world and the other, some vanishing and reappearing again, somewhere else in the room. They were jumping on Jack from all sides, holding him unyieldingly with mischievous cackles and whoops. He removed his hands from me to shake them off. This was their game; they had no idea what had been going on just seconds before their arrival.

Jack screamed like he'd gone mad, and his eyes bulged to match the frightening sound.

In his desperation to be free of them, his hand stretched out to me. He managed to take a hold of my shirt, but the goblins were pulling him away.

He jerked like a crazed animal, and tore the shirt open the rest of the way in his violence, scattering buttons across the floor in every direction.

The swarm of goblins tackled Jack to the ground beside me, where he roared in rage for them to get off. For an instant his eyes met mine, then Jack, and all of his goblins, vanished.

I laid there, staring at the fire, too numb to move. My sight became obscured and wavered dangerously through my tears. They fell from my eyes and across my cheeks in rivlets, and new ones followed in rapid succession.

Jack was gone-I was safe.

As this realization came to me and I relaxed, I began to shake terribly. The adrenaline that had been coursing through my body was still present.

Thunder rolled outside, and in such a way that it could only have been magic; the flames in the fireplace roared upward and then down, cowering as a fierce wind prowled over the chimney. The flames subsided to lurk beneath the embers, and an ominous black cloud tumbled out of the chimney, flooding the room.

It was by no means a regular cloud.

The magic of it was affecting my hair like static electricity, making the shortest strands that had been pulled free from my braid, stand up.

The cloud coalesced to form a figure that stood up directly before me. It was a man, wearing glimmering black armor and a cloak that sparkled as if with millions of tiny stars. His cloak was mesmerizing; but his expression was so frightening, that the blood drained from my face, and my trembling increased.

Narrowed eyes fell to meet my own, and when he opened his mouth to speak-he stopped. His eyes took all of me in and grew wide. He cast his gaze away, to peer around himself at the house, and then back at me, and his shoulders sank in dreadful realization.

"...Amelia?" It was Jareth's voice, and a second later, I recognized Jareth himself as his fearsome expression melted away into abject horror.

Jareth didn't wait for a response. He rushed forward and went down onto his knees beside me, the cloud dispersing partially to make way for him. "Stars Above-!"

I felt numb, uncomprehending and still shaking from the trauma. But now tears fell anew, and Jareth reached out to tenderly take my face in his hands.

A pained gasp escaped my lips when he touched it, and Jareth carefully released me. He examined both my eye and my lips where Jack had hit me. As he did, his countenance darkened in anger. "Who did this to you?" His tone said more than his words could fully convey. He would bring those responsible to justice.

But I couldn't speak. I could hardly breath as it was.

Jareth's attention passed over my head to my hands, where the zip tie was cutting into my skin. His hair bristled in further anger at the sight. With a light touch, he reached up and wrapped his fingers around my wrists. Swiping one thumb over the zip tie, he used magic to snap the plastic soundly in half, freeing my hands.

Jareth discarded the restraint, and smoothed his thumbs carefully over the cuts and immediately they began to heal. In seeing the state of my clothing, he lowered my arms down to rest on my abdomen and reached up to his shoulders. Unclasping his own starry cloak, he removed it and lifted me carefully to rest against his chest.

He wrapped the cloak with care around my shoulders, hiding all of me save for my head. His scent enveloped me, and the weight of the cloak was reassuring. With it, the safety of both it and his arms broke the numbness, and my tears fell freely and in earnest.

Seeing this, Jareth put his arms around me to lift me gently closer. I buried my face against his neck with a sob, pulling him near with shaking arms and holding tight as if my life depended on him.

And it hit me then, that it really had. If not for Jareth's wishspell, Jack might not have been stopped. I could have been...

I shuddered, and Jareth tightened his arms around me, helping me feel secure. He rested his cheek on my head, then placed a hand over mine where it clung to the breastplate of his armor. His fingertips slowed, then felt gently at my fingers. "Dearest-where's your ring?"

I cried harder at this. If I had immediately retrieved the ring, none of this would have happened. Jack wouldn't have been able to touch me.

Jareth quickly comforted me. "Forgive me." His voice softened. "You needn't worry. You're safe now." His hand left mine, and he held it open to the side.

I felt the slight magic he used, and the ring flew from the bathroom sink with a rattle, and sparkled warmly as it landed in Jareth's open palm. With care he slipped it onto my finger where it belonged, and rested his hand over mine. He and I both relaxed in relief, but my tears continued.

After a moment he extended his hand to the side and a crystal formed there. I looked at it out of curiosity when the magic brushed my arm; but what I saw made nausea creep up my throat and I whimpered, immediately turning my head back into his neck. He was looking into the past, from the moment Jack apparently snuck in through my bedroom window. I'd experienced the trauma once, to see it happen again was too much.

Jareth's arm around me held me close and he kept a secure hold, as though he could keep me safe from the past he was viewing.

I noticed the light in the room was dimming, and I wondered if the fire was dying down. Or maybe the room was growing colder? It didn't seem to be. At least, I felt perfectly warm and safe inside Jareth's arms, wrapped in his starry cloak. But then I noticed frost rapidly spreading over the living room window.

Eventually Jareth turned his head toward the still present cloud that occupied the edges of the room, and had grown with his viewing of the past. "Horiss." His voice was cold and commanding, and I realized he was incensed. That had been the cause of the frost-his anger had affected the room around us. I had seen him angry before, but this was different.

From the darkness a goblin emerged, his red eyes glinting in question. "Yes, my lord?"

Jareth's words were cold, slow, and deliberate. "Take the wished away to the dungeon."

Horiss's eyes widened, stunned. Such an act must have been unheard of.

The king's next words were deadly. "And castrate him."

My eyes widened in shock, "No," and I raised my head to see his face. "that's not…"

"Fair?" Jareth's eyes softened when he met my gaze, and he ran his hand up and down my back in comfort. "I am king. Your words have given me power here. This is Labyrinth law, my law. This is justice. He will never attack another." His expression hardened when he raised his eyes to the goblin. "See to it."

Horiss's lips curved up a little, and his red eyes glowed more than they had previously as he moved to leave.

"And Horiss."

Horiss stopped, his head half turned toward the goblin king. "Yes, my lord?"

"Use a dull blade."

I gaped, horrified, but at the same time I was indescribably relieved, and grateful towards Jareth. Now Jack would never again be able to force himself on another woman.

I frowned, wary. Goblin justice was frightening. There was no mercy for the guilty. For the first time, I truly understood Jareth's words from the movie.

"'What's done is done.'" I whispered in realization.

Jareth's eyes returned to me, and he nodded. "Precisely."

"Now," He began, waving a hand at the cloud. It lifted, gradually dissipating, and the room brightened. Gathering me up into his arms, he came to his feet. "You need to rest."

He carried me to my room, and it felt like he was really taking me away from that whole awful experience. We were moving forward.

I leaned into Jareth, and he carefully tucked me under the covers, cloak and all, before sitting on the edge of the bed beside me. I gazed pensively on at his armor as he turned to me, and I reached out to lay a hand on his breastplate, tapping the black metal with a fingernail. "Do you always wear this?"

Jareth inclined his head. "As goblin king, this is part of who I am. I am a defender to those who cannot defend themselves; those who are discarded and unwanted." Jareth explained, and turned further toward me, placing his hand on the bed. "Sometimes, defenders must be powerful, menacing, and when necessary, even cruel to withstand the evil we face."

While I absorbed this new information, Jareth lifted his hand from the bed and turned it over. He formed a crystal there, then offered it to me. My brow furrowed at this, and he went on to explain.

"This crystal will ease away the pain you've experienced." He lowered his hand to hold the crystal where I might be better able to reach it.

Carefully I moved my hand out from the cloak, being sure the blanket was keeping me covered. I stretched my hand out, and Jareth placed the crystal in it.

The crystal was cool initially, but it warmed, giving with it a comforting warmth that spread down my arms into the rest of my body. It further calmed my heart and eased away my fear and worry, and most importantly, it made the pain that I felt gradually fade away. Once its task was complete, the crystal vanished.

I breathed deeply in relief, but then suddenly with the absence of the pain, came another, more powerful feeling.

Fury.

I was furious. Furious at the situation I'd been put through, furious at the fact I had not been able to defend myself. So furious, that I forced myself to sit up, holding the cloak closed. Concerned, Jareth placed his hands on my arms to still me, but I was so angry, that I could not be placated.

My face was flushed with heat, and I grit my teeth in severe determination at him. "Teach me to fight."

* * *

A/N: What did you think? Review and let me know!


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Chapter twenty! A big thanks to LovelyAmberLight for brainstorming with me!

Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth.

A Writer Required

Chapter Twenty

* * *

I stared at Amelia in alarm. Teach her to fight? "Dearest…" I began, but Amelia frowned.

"If I don't learn to defend myself, I'll be too vulnerable. I've been too vulnerable! I can't put it on others to help me-I have to be able to help myself." She argued.

There was obvious logic in this, yet I couldn't help but to think that it was something she shouldn't have to worry about, period. But again, logically, she was right. She wouldn't always have someone to help her. I wouldn't always be around or able to assist her.

After a moment I released her arms. "You truly wish me to teach you to fight?" I confirmed.

Amelia nodded, resolute. "Yes."

I contemplated her wish. Physical activity was something that helped after the kind of attack she had just endured, but I worried she might be pushing herself too much. Instead of agreeing, I teased. "But what could you possibly offer me in exchange for such a prize as learning from a master like myself?"

Amelia raised an eyebrow and seriously considered my words. "What about writing your story? That could be my payment for the lessons."

At length I replied. "Very well. When would you like to start?"

Amelia turned more toward me. "How about now? Well-after I get dressed." She glanced down at herself, face reddening and her lips turning down in anger.

I nodded, rising to my feet. "I will be in the living room when you are ready." Amelia agreed, and I left her bedroom, closing the door behind me. I went to the living room and built up the fire in the meantime.

My wife emerged from her room not long after, dressed in the Abovegrounder's design for exercise wear. A shirt and knee length trousers that hugged her form, and running shoes. She had freed her hair from its braid, and pulled it up high so the rest of it cascaded down to her shoulders. Over one arm was draped my cloak, and the clothes she'd been wearing before were wadded up in her hands. As she passed the kitchen waste bin, she dropped her unwanted clothes inside with a sort of finality, and took a breath. "Ok, now I'm ready." That said, she returned to me.

"Thank you." She said, offering me back my cloak. Though I could tell her thank you was for more than just the expansive fabric.

"Of course." I replaced the cloak on my shoulders, fastening it in place. "Now, let's begin." I stepped further into the room, and Amelia followed.

When I faced her, Amelia's eyes were looking past me at the floor for an instant, before she was gazing at me again. "I need to learn how to get out of a hold...like earlier."

My own features hardened at the reminder, and I firmly reassured her. "Yes, we will go over that first." Amelia nodded, relieved.

I gestured at the couch, "We'll begin here." and while Amelia's face paled, she pursed her lips in determination and lay down. "In the instance that your hands are bound, you can use your feet to fend of an attacker. I'll take hold of your arms, and when I do, raise your legs and aim first at my stomach. The armor will protect me," I added when she opened her mouth to voice her concern. "I will be fine. Now. Aim for my stomach and groin. I will release you, and then you kick again, aiming for my face-the nose in particular. The attacker will release you then, to defend his injuries, while you can get away. If he doesn't let go, you keep kicking, and eventually he will release you. Ready?"

Amelia swallowed and lay on her side, putting her wrists together beside her head before stiffly nodding.

Reaching down, I took hold of Amelia's arms and began to lift her from the couch. Her eyes flashed. Fast as she could, Amelia swung her legs off the couch and kicked hard, one foot to each location.

I released her to protect myself, stepping back, and inclined my head. "Good. If you can take hold of your attacker's arms or hands when he pulls away, do so. Hold onto him, and keep kicking. This will make his face available to you as he falls to his knees. Kick his nose and mouth in particular. Again. This time keep hold of me."

Amelia frowned. "What about your face? Do you really want me to…?" She trailed off with a wince.

I chuckled. "The armor will protect me." I assured her.

Despite my reassurance, Amelia kept her frown. "O-Ok…"

We went through it again, and when Amelia tried to kick my face, her feet were forcefully diverted to either side. My face remained unharmed. We practiced it until she had it down, then moved on.

"In the instance that you are pinned down," I began as Amelia lay, red faced, down on her back on the floor. "You can escape by raising your knees and planting your feet on the ground behind your attacker."

"As hard as you can, push off of the ground and raise your hips, rolling to one side. As soon as your attacker is down, punch every vulnerable area available to you, focusing first on the eyes and face. Are you ready?" She nodded, and carefully I straddled her hips, pinning her hands above her head. "When you're ready, do as I've instructed."

Amelia took in a slow, steadying breath, then swiftly raised her knees and planted her feet. I braced myself as she raised her hips and turned, throwing me sideways. Rolling to follow, she went to her knees and raised a fist to hit me.

I grinned up at her cheekily. "Well done." We went through the exercise two more times, then moved on to hand to hand combat.

We began with how to throw a punch, and Amelia admitted. "I know at least that. My dad had me and my sisters learn how to throw a punch." Amelia held up her fist as an example. "Like the letter sign for the letter 'S' in sign language."

I studied her fist and allowed myself a small smile. "Yes, exactly like the 'S'." My smile fell, and I told her. "Now, try to hit me."

Amelia hesitated, uncertain, and I reassured her. "I'm more than capable of defending myself. Don't hold back." I gestured her forward. "When you are ready."

Amelia pressed her lips thin together, her nose wrinkling in apprehension. Raising her arms to the ready position, she exhaled in a huff, and jabbed her right fist forward. It wasn't a perfect punch, but it was enough to do someone minor damage. I raised my hand, easily deflecting it and stepping aside so she stumbled past me with a yelp. "Good. But remember not to throw all of your weight into it. You can be easily knocked over or restrained if you do."

Amelia steadied herself and turned around, raising her arms again. "Ok. Let's go again."

Amelia attempted to punch me, but I grabbed her fist and pulled her in close until she was facing away from me. I trapped her arms against her chest, with my own wrapped around them, rendering her unable to move her arms. "Remember the steps you learned." I told her, and I could sense her thinking it through.

Stepping to the side with her right leg, Amelia threw her left leg behind mine. Using her knee, she pushed on the back of my own knee, and destabilised my balance. Leaning away from me at the torso, she raised her left elbow to hit me in the face. I released her, stepping back while she turned as though to run. "Good! In addition, the thumb is an excellent weak point to exploit. By taking hold of your attacker's thumb and pulling the finger in the opposite of its intended direction, you can quickly force a man to his knees." I showed her how to do it, then instructed her to practice on me.

I took hold of her arm, and Amelia grabbed my thumb. She pried it back, making me to let go of her and forcing me down onto my knees. As soon as I was down, she shoved me backward, and turned away as though to run. She faced me again, and I grinned up at her. "Excellent." We ran through this technique several times, until Amelia had it down. She was building up a sweat, but was just as determined now as she had been in the beginning.

The last time she executed the technique, I spoke from the floor. "Well done." Coming smoothly to my feet, I waved her forward. "Let's work on your hand to hand combat once more."

Amelia's expression shifted just a little into dismay, and I couldn't help but be amused by it.

Smiling teasingly, I taunted her. "Well, come on, Little Kitten. I haven't got all day."

Amelia gaped at me, her red cheeks flushing further, then a grin crookedly stretched her lips before she spoke with accusation, "Rude!" and she laughed. Thoughtfully she tapped her chin. "Hmm. Maybe I should start calling you King Tight Pants?"

My expression was such that Amelia immediately burst into laughter.

Time passed swiftly as I continued to train her, and eventually Amelia huffed, her brow dampened by sweat and an expression of exasperation. "How are you not even remotely tired?" She gasped, gesturing at me with one hand before resting her hands on her knees.

I was still composed, being used to extensive training, and I smiled a little at her. "Practice, dearest. A lot of practice."

Amelia sighed, closing her eyes a moment. "I believe it!" Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly, then straightened back up, rolled her shoulders, and assumed the defensive position. I raised my eyebrows in surprise. She wanted to continue? She was clearly exhausted!

I appraised her thoughtfully. I had to admit she was not like Underground women. She was eager to learn new things, to improve herself however she could. As far as self defense was concerned, she was a natural. She learned the techniques I taught her quicker than I had expected. She seemed more sure of herself, as well, which was good. Confidence was an important part of defending oneself from an attacker, and Amelia was growing with that confidence.

Seeing her this way put my mind more at ease. She would be better able to protect herself.

I suggested we take a break, and Amelia agreed, then inquired. "Do you want a water?" I nodded, and Amelia stepped into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator to retrieve two chilled water bottles.

I studied her thoughtfully as she did. Amelia had a fair amount of natural talent. Perhaps with a few centuries practice, she could become my personal sparring partner. The idea shook me, and I felt cold realization settle in. It wouldn't work. Amelia won't live that long.

That was the problem with loving mortals.

'Loving?' I thought, stunned. Why would I think that? Certainly I cared a great deal for Amelia-there was no doubt in my mind about that. I cared about all of my friends. But loving her? I kept back a pensive frown and put on a small smile as Amelia handed me one of the bottles, and she opened her own to take a drink. I opened my own absently, lifting it to my lips.

I would have to think more on that.

We settled down to sit on Amelia's couch, drinking our water and talking of what I'd taught her today, and of other methods and techniques of self defense. Eventually we sat in companionable silence, watching the fire in the fireplace, and I realized that Amelia had dozed off. I hadn't realized until I looked over to ask her a question, and instead looked down upon her slumbering face. She had rested her head upon my shoulder and fallen asleep. The fear, anger, the anxiety she had worn upon her face since her ordeal, were all now washed away. Leaving her countenance to be occupied instead with peaceful innocence. I dared not move, lest I wake her.

I shifted just enough to rest my own head atop of hers, and exhaled, finally allowing myself to relax. Not long after, I drifted away, as well.

I entered Tasha's chambers after a long night of completing documents, and settling disputes within the kingdom. The amount of paperwork for my homeland was at times astronomical in its amount. But for now, it was completed. For now, I could focus on my family.

Tasha's sitting room greeted me warmly. The room was light and airy, decorated in pale, gentle shades of yellow, blue, cream, and gold. The far wall held large windows, currently open to the morning air.

I felt immediately at peace. Either by her presence, or her design of the room-I suspected both-I was comforted as if by her embrace.

I discovered she was sitting at the far end of a chaise lounge near the fireplace, reading one of the books I had recently recommended. Her curled white-blonde hair glowed like snow under sunlight, from the light flowing through the room's windows. My wife looked up as I entered.

Tasha's radiant smile made my own lips curve up into a warm smile. But then her brow furrowed as she studied me, her smile fading and allowing her expression to grow concerned. "Are you alright? You look so tired!" She slipped a marker into her book, and set it on a side table.

I went to her, and eased onto the chaise lounge before giving up the attempt to sit entirely, and turning to rest my head in her lap with a heavy sigh.

She paused a moment, then softly caressed my face. "You are tired." She confirmed, and her thumb lightly traced the circles under my eyes.

I closed them as she did, her touch easing the tension I was feeling, causing it to begin to fade. "The amount of documents that need signing in this kingdom, is unfathomably high." I sighed.

I could hear the frown in her voice. "You can't keep doing this to yourself. You'll wear yourself out and become ill."

"I know." I agreed, and her curled locks brushed my head and neck as she leaned down to kiss my lips. It was such a tender kiss, that my heart warmed. I reached up to rest my hand on the back of her head, keeping her close a little longer.

We broke apart eventually, and she rested her forehead against mine. "I'm glad you came." She lifted her head to smile at me, and I released her to rest my hand on my abdomen. "Well, actually, I'm always glad when you come." She corrected herself with a giggle, her blue and green eyes, respectively, sparkling.

I grinned. "I'm glad too. How can I not make time for my love?" I cast my own golden brown eyes around the room. "Speaking of the dear ones I love, where is our Little Prince?" Little Teren had reached six months, now. He'd gained my chestnut hair, and the curl from Tasha's hair, and inherited one blue eye, and one brown eye from both of us.

Tasha nodded towards the nursery door. "Still fast asleep." She beamed at me. "Did you know he spoke his first word last night?"

My eyes widened. I had missed it? Internally I cursed all paperwork in existence. "I didn't! What did he say?" I inquired eagerly, and Tasha grinned playfully at me.

"Guess."

I groaned. "Tasha…"

My wife laughed, the sound delightful to hear. "No, not that." She teased, knowing full well that hadn't been my guess. "Shall I tell you, or would you like another guess?"

"I think you know the answer, precious. Out with it." I glared, smirking.

Tasha's smile softened, and her eyes sparkled down at me. She caressed my cheek as she gently spoke. "He said 'Papa'."

I felt momentarily surprised, then my heart swelled with love, joy and pride. My son! His first word to be me! It was simultaneously a pride boosting, and a thunderously humbling feeling that accompanied this knowledge.

I teased Tasha, raising my eyebrows and speaking nonchalantly. "Yes, well, of course he would."

Tasha gave a faint snort of amusement and rolled her eyes, swatting my shoulder. "Slow down there, Papa." But the word made us both beam proudly at one another.

Her fingers gently began threading themselves through my hair, and I felt I might very well be in danger of falling asleep. "Careful, I might just fall asleep if you continue." The words came out as a murmur.

"I will bear that in mind." I heard the amusement in Tasha's voice before it faded as she continued to speak. "Truly, you should get some rest, after working all night." She frowned worriedly, and her tone changed as her eyes became distant. "Please don't work so late into the night from now on. You will make yourself ill if you keep doing it."

I noticed her change of expression and reached up and captured her free hand in mine, guiding it down to my lips. I kissed her palm and fingertips lightly. "Yes, precious."

She scowled a little, but her tone softened almost pleadingly, catching my attention. "Please don't say it just to pacify me, Jareth. I need you to mean it. Promise me, you will take better care of yourself."

I studied her face, wrinkled with worry, and lowered her hand to rest it solemnly over my heart. "I promise I will take better care of myself."

Tasha studied me a moment, then breathed as though she'd been holding it, and her shoulders relaxed. "Thank you."

I hadn't been there long when a knock at the door drew our attention. Tasha called for them to enter, and one of the goblin messengers entered.

He bowed to us both and addressed me. "Forgive me, my king, but an urgent message has arrived for you that requires your immediate attention."

I shut my eyes and exhaled hard. There seemed never a moment's peace for us. I looked up at Tasha apologetically. "Forgive me, precious. I will return as soon as the issue is resolved."

Her shoulders fell in disappointment, but she nodded. "I understand." She knew whatever it was must be tended to at once. Though neither of us were happy to part.

I sat up, placing a delicate kiss on her lips. "I'll be back soon."

She nodded, and I followed the goblin out of the room to my study.

A full hour passed, and I found myself with a migraine and an increased dislike for the desert king, Baczuk. As it turned out, Baczuk had had an issue with a few recent shipments from the goblin kingdom. Why he hadn't said as much sooner, I couldn't understand. He accused the goblin kingdom of sabotaging shipments, and I found myself with the arduous task of reassuring Baczuk that it was not, in fact, something that had happened with my knowledge. Reassuring had then turned to warning when Baczuk threatened retribution, though retribution of what nature, he did not confide. He cut short the correspondence through the mirror with a final threat, and I settled back into my chair to rub my temples. Baczuk could be incredibly thick at times. Even with the djinn's added gift of competence, I wondered if Baczuk's old nature didn't often shine through.

Heaving a sigh, I lifted myself from my chair and went to the study door. I needed to speak to Tasha. Exchanging thoughts on such situations with her always seemed to help me in resolving problems. She was intuitive and clever, which lent some foresight into things I might not have thought of otherwise.

I opened it, to find the goblin guard standing at his post, a folded piece of parchment in his hand. When he heard the door open, he turned with a bow and offered me the parchment. "My Lord, Lady Tasha wished me to relay this to you."

I took it with interest, raising an eyebrow. Why would Tasha write a note? She could just as easily have waited in her chambers until I returned. Why hadn't she?

I unfolded the note and read it.

'My Love,

I've received a letter from Marcurrelious, and Teren and I have gone to visit him. I didn't wish to disturb you, so I've written this note instead so that you are aware. We will return near midday. Remember your promise to get some rest! We love you and will see you soon. I know Teren will have something to say to you when we return.'

I smiled to myself at this, then finished reading the note.

'Yours, Always,

Tasha and Little Prince'

I raised my eyebrows a little at her mention of a visit. Marcurrelious was usually the one to visit us. It was odd that she would go to see him. I frowned. In fact, he usually insisted on being the one to visit, saying it would be safer for her. Which was something I appreciated his consideration in. So why now did that change?

I returned to the sitting room in Tasha's chambers without quite realizing I was doing it. She was gone, of course, and the quiet ticking of the clock on the fireplace mantel was peacefully chiming away the hour. I didn't want to sleep through the day, but Tasha's chaise lounge looked awfully welcoming, and I had promised her that I would rest. I laid out on the seat, her fragrance still floating in the air, soothing to me as I dozed and fell almost at once to sleep, her letter still in my hand.

The light in the room when I woke was that of early afternoon, gold and white, making the room appear a margin warmer than it did in the morning. A glance around the room revealed that I was still alone, and I stretched on the chaise, feeling a little refreshed. My eyes dragged up the fireplace to the clock above it, and my stomach dropped in alarm.

It was two o'clock. Tasha and Teren were late. They should have been back by now.

An unsettling feeling entered my gut, and I sat up, trying to dismiss it. Perhaps they had gone to the midday meal early, or were in the gardens. But the first thought was unlikely because the three of us always went together, and the second was possible, but it was still spring outside, and the garden would be too cold for little prince to venture into.

Perhaps they had lost track of time and stayed longer with Marcurrelious? That seemed more likely.

'They must be on their way home now, surely.' I thought, and a powerful inclination to meet them on the way struck me. I frowned at the feeling. Surely, it was unnecessary. If they were nearly home, there really was no point. The feeling remained, however, and I returned to my own chambers. The feeling kept pressing upon me, and at last I moved to step out on the bed chamber's balcony. A quick fly might alleviate the feeling I was experiencing.

I was about to step onto the railing when my wedding band burned hot, panic and fear suddenly radiating from it. I froze still, registering it. It was Tasha's ring communicating to mine. Before it could show me the danger, her ring fell silent, and my own resounded with its incomplete message. My ring had located my wife, enough to say which direction she and Teren were in, though not accurately enough for me to transport myself to their specific location. I stepped off of the balcony, transforming mid step and swooping down over the city, quickly gaining speed. Even before I had reached the outer wall of the Labyrinth, I could see smoke in the distance in the nearby forest. My heart jumped and my stomach turned nastily at the sight. I flew faster.

The smell of burning wood hit me just before I arrived, faintly burning my eyes and nose. As I cleared the tops of the trees leading to the forest road, my stomach plummeted at the scene before me. Tasha's carriage was turned onto its side, its door open and a wheel missing. The carriage itself had been on fire, though now the flames were beginning to die down. I circled to dive down to the carriage when something else caught my eye, and I changed direction as though hypnotized. I transformed before reaching the ground properly, stumbling over the dark forest road. Tasha's white blonde hair shone where the sun hit it, it was what had turned my attention.

She was curled up at the edge of the road.

Her clothes and hair were burned, and what skin was exposed had been badly burned. She looked to have climbed out of the carriage in an attempt to escape. I went down on my knees beside her, gently pulling her hair away from her face. It, too, was burned, though not as badly as the rest of her. Her arms were wrapped around a cloth covered bundle, and I recognized Teren's little arm reaching out from it to his mother, clinging to a curled lock of her hair. Both Tasha and Teren lay perfectly still.

Tears were falling unheeded down my face as I gently gathered my wife and son into my arms.

I was beyond angry, and utterly heartbroken.

My family was gone.

The forest road faded and grew dark, and when light returned to it, I was somewhere else completely, and alone.

Amelia's bedroom came into focus, and I frowned, bewildered. Then came Amelia's voice, screaming for help. It shook me to my core. Whirling round, I sought her out. She was pinned to the living room floor and struggling to get free, beneath the man that had assaulted her.

My rage grew at the sight, and I ran to them to pull the beast off of her. I reached the living room doorway, but seemed unable to get any closer. The man hit her soundly across the face, stopping her scream, and my anger blazed. But no matter how hard I tried, I could not get to them.

I could not save Amelia.

A cold sweat decorated my face as I jolted awake on Amelia's couch.

The fire in the fireplace was burning peacefully, but my heart was still racing, and my outrage building as I recalled the end of my nightmare. My jaw clenched, and I came to my feet.

I had a few questions for Amelia's attacker.

I'd forgotten that Amelia had been resting her head on my shoulder, and when I stood, she gave a start, waking up. Her tired eyes blinked rapidly, and she looked up at me in confusion. "...Jareth, what's wrong?" She asked, stifling a yawn behind her hand.

The sight was so endearing, that the thought that someone had hurt her, made me all the angrier. I had a thought that perhaps it would be best if I just took her with me to the Underground, regardless of whether or not she wanted to go. I could keep her safe, and she would never again have to worry or be afraid.

"Jareth?" Amelia's voice prompted, pulling me from my tempting thoughts. Her brow was wrinkled above wary blue eyes, and she fell silent as she took in my countenance. Had I frightened her?

My shoulders slowly fell. I couldn't force her to come with me. She would resent me for it. I took a breath to calm myself, then spoke to her. "I apologize." I glanced at the clock on the wall. "I must return to the castle."

Gesturing down at her ring, I spoke with authority-the kind of authority I reserved specifically for the goblin throne room, for I needed her to fully understand and comply. "This is an order, Amelia. Do not take off that ring."

Amelia's once sleepy eyes widened, her expression taken aback. Her cheeks flushed as she frowned at me in indignation. Clearly no one had ever seriously ordered her to do something. She remained silent a moment, thinking, and her bright eyes seemed to unfocus as she offered me a reply. "I will keep the ring on," She began, fixing me with a stern gaze. "But only if you promise me that you will be careful."

She was so serious, I felt the need to amuse her to diffuse her worry. Grinning, I chuckled and cheekily questioned. "Oh? Do you think I can't defend myself?"

It worked, and Amelia smiled. "No, that's not it." Her smile fell, and her eyebrows came together as she searched for the right words. "I don't know, I… I just have this feeling." She made a face. "Like when you experience deja vu, or feel like someone's watching you. It's like that, but not quite." Frustration entered her expression. "I'm not sure how else to explain it."

I watched Amelia closely as she tried to explain. I knew humans had a sort of sixth sense that my own kind did not fully understand, but I also knew how easily fear clouds the senses. Amelia had just been through a traumatic and frightening experience. It was likely her own senses were still somewhat murky. Even so, I straightened up where I stood, and soberly promised. "I will be careful. I promise."

Her eyes sharpened on mine, studying them to be certain I meant it. After a moment, the sharpness faded, and she nodded, satisfied.

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A/N: *The self defense techniques are real techniques I studied from a couple self defense groups. I didn't use all of them here, but you can find their video on youtube, and I highly recommend that you learn them. Search: "Top 7 Self Defense Techniques That Women Need To Know", it's by 'Pure motion fitness'. There's seven kinds they use in the video (Hence the title). Also Jiu Jitsu is excellent in teaching self defense. There's a group called "Gracie Jiu Jitsu (Women Empowered)" that is FANTASTIC!


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Thanks for your patience in waiting for this chapter, and I apologize for the short length. The next chapter will follow sooner than this one did, and be much longer. *Huge credit to LovelyAmberLight for her suggestions of improvement!*

Disclaimer: I clearly don't own Labyrinth or its characters!

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A Writer Required

Chapter Twenty-One

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"He is ready for questioning, My Lord." Horiss informed me upon my arrival. Jack was hunched over upon the ground, pale from his punishment.

A cold smile spread across my lips. "Excellent." Upon entering the cell, I shoved Jack back with my foot, and held him down with it. Leaning forward with easy grace, I folded my arms over my knee. I smiled with a satisfaction that did not meet the fire of hatred and disgust in my eyes, but my tone conveyed that we were holding an entirely civilized conversation over tea.

"I'd be very careful, if I were you, in what I say next. You may not live much longer, otherwise. And bear in mind: I still have not decided which method I will use to end it." My smile fell drastically. "So," I leaned down a little more and bore my teeth at the pig. "Make yourself useful to me." I narrowed my eyes. "Why did you attack that woman?"

When Jack did not reply, I raised an eyebrow and frowned lightly. "Very well." I raised my voice, addressing the goblin Horiss behind me. "Horiss, prepare an oubliette. It seems our guest would prefer to be sealed within an oubliette for eternity, where he will never again be able to harm another woman."

"No! Please! Have Mercy!" Jack burst out, tears gathering in his eyes. "I'm sorry! I know what I did was wrong-I wish-" The tears at his eyes began to spill free as he sobbed. "-I wish I wasn't the evil man I've become!"

The sincerity of the wish struck me with force, and I straightened up, removing my foot from his chest. He was completely serious; his words not just words. Especially not here.

He meant what he said, and I could not ignore it, and he had already paid for his actions towards Amelia. That punishment was well delivered.

I was reminded of something Tasha had once told me, and I felt my anger begin to crumble. 'One can judge a society by how they treat their lowest members.' The anger faded. Jack's true desire-his true wish-could very well save him.

I shifted on my feet, studying him thoughtfully, and waved away Horiss. The goblin obediently backed away, awaiting further orders. At last I addressed Jack. "There is a way, your wish will be made possible." Jack's eyes lit up with hope, and in seeing it, I went on. "I will turn you into a goblin babe, and remove all memory of your human life. You will have one more chance at a proper upbringing, to live a life of peace, in the home of good goblin parents. However, due to your current circumstances, you will be unable to father children. That is my answer to your wish. Will you accept it?"

Tears streamed down Jack's face in earnest, and he cried. "Yes! Oh, thank you!" Jack buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking.

"Then it will be done." I told him, and the words resounded around us, full of wishspell. In a matter of seconds, the magic enveloped Jack, and the human man shrunk and transformed, until a goblin babe lay swaddled before me.

With care I picked up the babe, who blinked up at me with the innocence of a newborn, and I turned to Horiss. "Find suitable goblin parents for this child, but look first among those who are unable to bear children of their own. I will take him for now to the wished away nursery. Inform me once you have found them, and I will speak with them."

Horiss bowed, and followed after me as I left the room, before hurrying off to his task.

I gave the child to a nurse in the nursery, then continued on to my own chambers, lost in thought.

I worried, despite the happy ending-or rather happy beginning-that Jack had been bestowed with. I worried about what Amelia would think. Would she agree to this decision? The question turned in my mind, leaving me without an answer. What would she say when I told her? For I knew I would have to tell her. I decided in the end that I would think over the situation for now, and wait until next I visited her to inform her.

Once within my chambers, I changed out of my armor and donned a pale blue poet's shirt, loose black leggings, and black boots. I was just finishing when I heard the quiet cry of a babe from the attached nursery. Walking to the door connected to my own chambers, I pulled back the curtain that kept it hidden and protected from the sight of others.

I gave the door a light knock, and Aerol's faint voice invited me in. Stepping inside was like traveling back in time. In the past, after Tasha and Teren's murders, I was unable to return to their rooms due to the pain the memories caused.

Now upon entering, however, I experienced an acute memory. For a moment, I could see my beautiful wife Tasha, holding our perfect little Teren in her arms. Her sweet voice singing softly to the little prince as she rocked him to sleep in the rocking chair set beside his cradle.

"Sleep now, little flower,

save your shining face.

Sleep in night's healing power,

let it adorn you like lace."

In the memory I smiled at Tasha's lullaby. My wife stilled her song to look up at me. She smiled as I closed the door behind me, and I stopped, momentarily breathless by the incandescence of her countenance. It was so full of love, of kindness, that I felt my own heart fill near to bursting with the same emotion. I relaxed as the peace her presence brought fell over me.

"Jareth?"

I blinked, pulled from the past. Aerol had spoken from the rocking chair, where she sat rocking her baby. Her concerned gaze studied me in question.

"Are you well?"

I looked around the room, noticing the slight color differences Aerol had made shortly after her son's birth. The pastel colors of Teren's nursery, chosen by Tasha, that had been so calming, were altered to more earthy tones. It gave a feeling of reassurance, and I noted how the design was similar to how the dark fae homes were decorated. A subtle clue as to the child's paternal roots.

I shifted on my feet upon recognizing the similarities. I had had no problem with Aerol changing the rooms to suit her before, but seeing the room thus changed was a blow I had not expected. I should have changed the room with her, to make the transition easier. I swallowed down the resurfacing grief, and cleared my throat before returning my gaze to Aerol.

Easing my expression into a faint smile, I gestured at the armchair sitting on the opposite side of the cradle. "May I?"

Aerol's eyebrows raised in surprise.

This indeed was my home, but the nursery and queen's chambers were hers, and I would treat them as such.

She blinked rapidly, then nodded. "Of course."

I inclined my head in gratitude and approached, sitting myself down in the arm chair. Despite the change to the nursery, the presence of Tasha seemed to linger, and it eased the ache in my heart. I shut my eyes to take it in, and Aerol let me be. I must have dozed off, for I awoke mere minutes later as Aerol was laying her child in the cradle.

Once the child was tucked in, Aerol noticed I was awake, and a smile danced lightly upon her face. I returned the expression, then gestured toward the nursery sitting room when she straightened up, and whispered. "Shall we to the sitting room?" She gave a small nod, and the two of us retreated from the nursery.

We settled down on the two couches within the room, where they were placed near to the fireplace. It was still cold here in the Underground, despite our springtime being on the horizon.

"Is something the matter?" Aerol questioned. The small table between us began filling with food and drink upon our entry to the room, apparently sensing that Aerol must have been hungry.

Aerol began to pick what she wanted from the table and set it all on a small plate, and filled two glasses with water. One for herself, and one for me, all the while I mulled over my words as she began to eat.

"Is it your wife?" Aerol inquired. The question startled me from my thoughts, and that seemed confirmation enough for her. "Is she unwell?"

Turning over my answers, I at last replied. "She was in danger." I hesitated. I still knew little about Aerol, and sharing too much information about Amelia with her seemed unwise. The less others knew as a whole, the better.

Aerol's brow wrinkled in concern, and in seeing it, I assured her. "She is well, now. She requested training in self defense."

My faux wife raised her eyebrows with interest. "Do you plan to train with weapons?" At my expression, she continued. "It would be good knowledge to have. The more she knows, the safer she will be." Aerol advised, taking a drink from the goblet before her.

In truth, I hadn't considered it. In Amelia's world, weapons were not something one carried around with great regularity, or at all, in the majority of cases. But such knowledge would be beneficial to her, should she ever-stars above forbid-require it.

"I hadn't considered training in weaponry, but I agree with your assessment. I will speak to her regarding the matter."

Upon my conceding the idea, Aerol gave an encouraging smile. "I know she will appreciate the additional training. And you will, too, should she ever need to use it."

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A/N: What did you guys think? I know it's a bit short, but it's information needed. Review and let me know what you think! :) (And be kind, yeah? I'm only human!)


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: This chapter wasn't going to originally be in the story, but the idea came to mind while I was working in the garden, and I thought it might be a nice addition. I hope you like it! It is also short, but important in its own way.

Also: Whoever was praying for an update, you got it. I felt it, so yes, you've been answered. :) I was kind of startled, but it seems important to do this. I don't know how this will help, but I hope it helps! *Hugs!* Remember to be strong, dear ones!

Disclaimer: Still don't own it, but I sure do enjoy writing about it!

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A Writer Required

Chapter Twenty-Two

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The snow crunched beneath my newly magicked winter boots, and the wind brushed through my temporarily short brown bangs against my forehead. I had taken to gradually showing Amelia my true appearance, and it was accompanied by a sense of rightness. It was more comfortable, and one should always feel comfortable being oneself.

I looked up as I approached a snow-laden building. Amelia had not been at her home, where we were supposed to meet to work on completing my story. When I directed my pendant to reach out to her ring, it returned with the image of a rose garden. Perplexed-as it was currently winter here in the Above-I demanded the ring elaborate.

It complied, showing the inside of a greenhouse filled with a variety of flowers. And now, I found myself outside that flower shop. Opening the door, I stepped hurriedly inside, and breathed in the warm air gratefully. The winters in the Above could be dreadfully cold.

Once inside, I wandered a moment among the few patrons there purchasing flowers, and shortly spotted a door leading into the greenhouse. Upon entering, I was greeted by the scent of dozens of flowers-a scent that had been present before in the shop, but now was quite strong. The fragrances brought with it a memory that was tugged to the forefront of my mind.

I kissed the top of Tasha's head as we lay in bed. "If it should be a boy?" She murmured.

"I'll spoil him, naturally. He'll have your kindness, and my charming good looks," I smirked as Tasha lightly poked my chest, her gentle eyes sparkling with humor.

Love softened the blue and green gaze I adored. "What else?"

I hummed, pretending a moment to think. "Your intelligence. My mischief."

"And if it should be a girl?" She asked with a smile.

My eyes sparkled. "Why, I shall spoil her even more, of course. And she will hold much the same traits had she been a boy. Though I dare say she shall have your charming elegance, as opposed to my good looks. She'll be even more intelligent, and have a desire to use it to help those around her. She'll be adored by all, though not nearly as much as we shall adore her."

Tasha's smile softened, and her hand rested upon my cheek. "I love you."

Taking her hand, I pressed a gentle kiss to the palm, gazing into her eyes. "I love you."

"And," I added with a little smile, as I leaned down to place a kiss upon Tasha's growing belly. "We love you, little one."

Tasha's expression glowed, full of happiness. "Yes, we do."

The next morning brought much of the same daily tasks as the last. A kiss to my wife-less a task, and far more a blessing-then seeing to it her needs would be met until I returned. An assurance from her that she would be well, and I was away to my study.

I knew I shouldn't have been quite so worried; we had an excellent staff of goblin maid and man servants. But it was Tasha's first pregnancy, and our first child together, and fae women did not often do well in bearing and birthing a child. In knowing this, I felt considerable anxiety for the wellbeing of both my beloved Tasha, and for our beloved child. The day progressed much as those others before it had. A day as any other, it seemed.

Until just after the midday meal, when a letter arrived with the daily correspondence.

Tasha and I were enjoying our meal in the dining room when it arrived. After finishing her meal, Tasha departed with a kiss to tend to our garden, and I returned to my study. There I perused the messages left for me, and found the letter among them. I was grateful Tasha had not seen it.

It was a letter from her father.

Tasha's long hair glinted in the Labyrinthian sunlight as I entered the garden, and already I felt the desire to conceal the letter from her growing.

Perhaps it would be best if she did not know. I could easily-

"My love! Have you finished already?"

Tasha's voice broke me from my thoughts, stopping me still. "Ah." I hoped I had never called myself intelligent, for this was certainly not a moment in which it shone as I struggled for a response.

Her curious eyes dropped to the letter in my hands, and in an instant, the reaction I had felt concern in seeing from her, occurred.

The pleasant pink of her cheeks and lips fled as though it had never been, and dew began to form upon her brow. She took in a shuddering breath, and turned back to the roses. She forced herself to speak. "What does he want?"

In seeing her reaction, I pocketed the letter and approached. "Forgive me. I was uncertain on whether I should have told you-"

She spoke over me in her distress, her voice slightly higher. "-Jareth. What does he want?"

I hesitated. Coming to a stop beside her, I retrieved the letter and opened it.

Tasha shut her eyes, waiting.

"He wishes to congratulate us on our child." I began.

Tasha's eyes opened, sharpening on the letter with disbelief that was followed at once by suspicion. "And?"

Again, I hesitated. "And...to me, specifically, he has 'requested' that I return you to him. He is threatening otherwise to retrieve you."

The suspicion on Tasha's face sank rapidly into horror, and she looked truly ill. "He's going to try and take me." She breathed.

I scowled. "No."

She seemed not able to hear me. Tears gathered in her eyes, and her anguish tore at my very soul as she faced me. "He is-he's going to take me-I know he is!"

"No, Tasha." I repeated in a firmer tone, discarding the letter upon the ground to take a gentle hold of my wife's arms. I stepped closer and held her securely within the safety of my arms, and Tasha shut her eyes. "He won't. I will not allow it." I promised.

Tears slipped silently down her face, and I felt my heart break. I murmured, and kissing her eyelids gently, wiped away the falling tears. "I'll never let him take you."

Tasha did not reply, though her weeping had quieted. "Do you remember what I told you? That day we first met?"

This reminder seemed to bring her further peace, and she breathed a little steadier. "'You are safe here.'" Her voice wavered with the remnants of tears.

"Precisely." Softly taking her face in my hands, I murmured. "You are always safe here, my dearest love." I placed a kiss upon her brow, and her shoulders slowly relaxed.

"Jareth?"

Amelia's voice pulled me free from my memories, and I returned abruptly to the present, leaving the memory of my deceased wife in the past. I turned my eyes to the room in search of Amelia, and found her not far, standing at the corner of my current aisle, and another running the length of the greenhouse.

Her clothes were sprinkled with potting soil, and her hair pulled upward into a high bun that had failed to catch a few stray strands of shorter hair. Oversized, well-worn gloves donned her hands, and she held a pair of pruners in one hand, and the handle of an old bucket half full of old blossoms in the other.

For a moment she looked thoroughly bewildered, an expression that vanished to make room for realization. "Oh my gosh I forgot!" Her brow furrowed, burdened with apology. "I'm sorry!"

My own forehead wrinkled as I walked forward to meet her. "It's understandable-though I am confused as to why you are in this place." I studied the bucket she was carrying with curiosity.

"My friend asked for help in her shop." Amelia gestured at the flowers. "I used to work here, a long time ago, and today she was short handed and needed someone who knows what they're doing." For a moment, a faint longing entered Amelia's eyes, and I wondered if she didn't miss working among the flowers.

"Do you miss it here?" I questioned.

Amelia's cheeks reddened slightly in surprise, and she shrugged, looking away. "Yeah. My current job is good, but sometimes I wish…" She stopped herself, her face gaining a great deal more color as she looked sheepishly at me at the slip. "...well, you know..." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, I've just finished here. I'll be heading home afterwards."

My eyebrows rose. "When did you arrive here?"

She shrugged. "Right around seven this morning. I haven't been here long." Amelia tipped her head past me at the door leading into the flower shop. "I just have to put this stuff away and I'll be able to go. Are you still ok for working today?"

I nodded. "I am."

"Great." Amelia smiled widely, the brightness of it momentarily capturing me.

I blinked, then adjusted my coat collar, gestured toward the door. "Well, then. Shall we?"

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A/N: Let me know what you think! :)


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: Chapter 23! Let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth. (But you knew that)

* * *

A Writer Required

Chapter Twenty-Three

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"I need to speak with you about Jack." Jareth began, once we arrived at my house from the greenhouse.

Warily, I nodded as we sat on the couch. "Ok."

Jareth took a breath before continuing. "Jack was punished, as I commanded. However, while I interrogated him, he made a wish." Jareth hesitated, waiting as I took this information in. "He wished sincerely to be a better man."

I sat carefully back against the couch, processing. In studying Jareth's expression, and in hearing his tone as he spoke, I could sense that while he did not regret his actions, he did worry about my judgement of them.

"Then, you granted his wish." I surmised, looking at the fireplace thoughtfully. My brow furrowed as my eyes returned to his in question. "How did you grant it?"

Jareth's expression eased marginally, seeing that so far I did not disapprove, and he explained. "I told him I would turn him into a goblin babe. He would be without memory of his former life, and he would not be able to father children. He will have a good goblin family to adopt him."

After a moment, I stood from the couch, and Jareth hesitantly followed, his expression tense. "Do you disapprove of my decision?"

I faced him in surprise. "No. You dealt justice for his actions, but you showed mercy as well." I took a moment to gather my next words. "You made the best choice for the situation. I don't disapprove."

We worked on his story once the matter of Jack was completed, then moved into the living room for more self defense lessons. Jareth had begun adding weapons into my defense lessons. Bo staffs, and eventually even swords. I felt this was odd, until he explained. "You will likely have no cause to know any of this, but it is better to know and be prepared, than it is to not know and be vulnerable."

I agreed to this, and we trained.

After my self defense lesson with Jareth, he returned to the Underground, and over the next week, my goblin visitors increased in numbers.

Often one would come with a message and notes attached, for me from their king. Each message from Jareth made me smile, though the goblins trying to sneak treats behind my back, dampened that at times. I'd quickly discovered that leaving out treats specifically for them, managed to keep them corralled to the kitchen table where I could better keep an eye on them.

Baard showed up as well, though not as much as the goblins did. The goblins began showing in higher numbers once I started making treats for them. I told them it would be better if only a few of them came with the king's notes, concerned that my neighbors would notice them. But I only received absent nods from the goblins as they munched away. In seeing their response, I was not reassured.

Even Baard liked what I made, but when he saw how many goblins were arriving-getting dangerously close to the double digits-he firmly put his foot down and ordered that all of them leave, declaring that three was the maximum allowed here at a time, and he sent all but three back to the Underground.

There was some grumbling about this from the dismissed goblins, but they complied, sending sour looks at the elf as they filed out through the kitchen portal.

I was hugely relieved. There had been far too many to keep an eye on, and I could hardly get anything done with them exploring every corner of my home. I even found a tiny goblin in the pantry on the top shelf, gnawing away at protein bars, the wrappers and all. He seemed to get a few bites of a bar, before deciding he didn't like the flavor, and would move on to another bar as though in hopes it would be better. He got halfway through a box before I caught him.

The days progressed, Jareth rarely popping in to spar with me to be certain my self defense training was consistent, throwing in teasing jabs to provoke me into action when I grew tired. He was pushing me harder than before, which I appreciated. My muscles disagreed, but I was grateful he wasn't holding back.

Besides sparring, he also came to talk and deliver his own notes. Which always ended with him absently nibbling on a cookie...or five, depending on if they were homemade or not. Then he'd lean back in one of the kitchen chairs, completely at ease. It made me smile, partly amused, and partly pleased-but I also worried for him.

His eyes would often take on a pensive, sometimes downright grimly serious expression, and I couldn't decide if I should ask him about it or not. His business was none of mine, but I found myself wanting to help if I could. Maybe even just talking about it would help him in sorting it out?

Resolved, I set down a glass of milk before him, and tilted my head slightly forward to better see his face. "Jareth?" When he didn't answer, I leaned down and folded my arms on the table. "Little Kitten to His Majesty, King Tight Pants." Despite the teasing words, my voice was gentle, my brow wrinkled with concern. "Come in, King Tight Pants…" I was stopped short when Jareth suddenly looked up at me, catching me firmly in his gaze.

I felt my breath leaving me, like I'd been knocked breathless. My cheeks flooded with startled warmth, and we stared at each other a moment, silent.

Jareth's eyes softened considerably, and the sight made me feel a little better in seeing it. He raised an eyebrow slightly and replied.

"Yes, Little Kitten?"

I couldn't help but to grin, and I gave a small, quiet giggle of amusement. His own lips turned up with humor in a warm smile.

My grin began to fade as I questioned him. "Are you alright? You've been quiet."

Jareth tensed slightly, his eyes flitting down to the glass of milk before him as he settled his chair back down to all four of its legs. "I'm fine. Matters of state, and such things. Nothing I haven't dealt with before." His words felt mildly evasive, as though he weren't being entirely truthful. Was he lying to me?

The thought hit me like a physical blow.

I swallowed despite the feeling, and settled down on the bench at the table, just around the corner from him. I shoved down the tumultuous feelings roiling in my gut at the same time. "Oh?" I left my many thoughts unspoken, voicing instead the most important. "Is there anything I can do to help?" I knew, given the fantastical circumstances, that it was highly unlikely I could do much to help. But I still wanted to try, even if I could only help a little. Even if all I could do was offer the help, I wanted to let him know I was here for him.

Jareth studied me a moment, thoughtful. His serious expression melted into one of reassurance and gratitude. "Thank you, that is kind of you, but no." He paused as his eyes landed on the cookies and milk. "Actually, I suppose you have helped."

My brow furrowed. Did he mean the cookies? I asked anyway, knowing I could easily be mistaken. "The cookies?"

He nodded, then chuckled. "You've kept me fed, and fattened me up, dearest." He raised a cookie for emphasis, eyeing it before dipping it in his milk and eating it in one impressively large bite.

His words caught my attention, and I frowned. "Kept you fed?" My frown grew more severe, riddled with worry, and he looked away from my eyes as he chewed as though avoiding my gaze. "Jareth, you are eating regularly, right?" I pressed him. Without meaning to, my voice became laced with reproval. I felt like I was reprimanding him.

He stopped chewing, and his expression told me my tone had not been lost on him. The sight would have been comical-him with his cheeks full-but at the moment I was too concerned to find amusement in it. The goblin king chewed rapidly and swallowed his mouthful, then turned more fully toward me, his eyebrows lowering. "I assure you I eat very well."

"Really?" I questioned, uncertain.

Jareth took my hand in his and gently squeezed it. The sincerity in the action was reflected in his words and reassuring smile. "Really." He patted his belly for emphasis.

I glanced down at his stomach, eyeing it doubtfully. It was as flat as ever, and probably smooth-I shut down those thoughts at once. My face grew instantly hot, and I tore my gaze from him, up to the cookies. I cleared my throat quietly and spoke in a rush. "Er-Ok. Good."

Jareth's visits after that seemed somehow more peaceful, our time together and conversations somehow affecting a change in the atmosphere. I was sad to see him go, and he was reluctant to leave.

The day after Jareth's most recent visit, I received a text from Andrew.

He asked if I could meet him for breakfast. I had planned to say no, but he told me he wanted to talk about Bocelli's, to explain himself, so I agreed. I arrived a few minutes late, reluctant to deal with him. I joined him at a booth inside the breakfast diner he'd chosen, and once seated, I leaned back against the faux red leather seat with my arms folded.

We ordered our drinks, and I raised an eyebrow imperiously at him. "Well?"

Andrew's fingers played with his menu, and at last he took a breath, stilled his hands, and met my eyes with a resolute countenance. "I wasn't myself at Bocelli's." He began, and seemed to be weighing his next words. "The way I behaved-it wasn't my fault."

My eyes widened and I bristled, but Andrew held his hands up in defense to stop me from speaking.

"Just-hear me out." He requested.

I pursed my lips, but sat quietly back to allow him to continue.

Andrew relaxed, lowering his hands. "My doctor prescribed some pain killers, because I've been having migraines lately. The medicine was supposed to help, but I reacted badly to it. I wasn't thinking properly. The wine I drank that night only added to it. I didn't know that would happen." Andrew's brow wrinkled in regret. "I'm truly sorry, Amelia. Can you forgive me?"

My frown had eased almost completely away. That...actually made sense. Thinking back on what had happened that night, I remembered how odd Andrew had been acting. Come to think of it, lately he hadn't quite been himself. I wondered if the migraine didn't have something to do with his job. I know he talked of a possible promotion some time ago. I didn't know if he was still trying to get it or not. Maybe the stress was getting to him, causing the migraines?

I didn't reply immediately, and after mulling over his explanation, I slowly nodded. "Yes. I forgive you."

Andrew's shoulders relaxed and his lips pulled up in a grateful smile. "I'm glad we could talk about this. Thank you, babe, for meeting with me." My lips twitched in irritation at the pet name, but Andrew went on, unaware. "Also, I want to apologize to both Sarah and Jareth as well. I don't want them to go on thinking ill of me."

I thought on what Andrew said. It'd take more than an apology, for Jareth not to go on 'thinking ill of him'. Sarah was more likely to forgive him, but Jareth was another matter entirely. I returned my attention to Andrew.

Andrew had turned pensive, his eyes flitting outside to passing cars. "Maybe we could invite them to the Christmas festival tomorrow? I know it's short notice, but it could be fun. Maybe we could double date?"

I didn't immediately reply to this-as Sarah and Jareth weren't dating-but then thought of Marcus. "Sarah's not dating anyone to my knowledge, but maybe both she and Marcus would like to go with us?" I suggested. Andrew looked uncertain, even apprehensive, but eventually agreed to the idea.

"Yeah, that could be fun." He shrugged.

Having decided on it, I texted Sarah and Marcus. They were both free and interested, so we planned to meet at the Christmas Festival the next day.

Andrew and I arrived, and I couldn't help but marvel at the sight of the christmas festival. "It's so beautiful!" I breathed. The snow was softly falling in the form of enormous snowflakes, decorating the christmas stalls with lush blankets of natural beauty.

Andrew put his arm around my waist with a smile, kissing me lightly on the cheek. "I'm glad you like it." His eyes sparkled with warmth, and I leaned upward to give him a proper kiss.

"Ugh, Turnip! Alright, you two knock it off or I'm out of here!" Marcus's voice complained. I grinned in the kiss and laughingly pulled away, making Andrew huff. He'd apparently been enjoying himself.

My grin widened into a happy smile when Marcus walked up with Sarah at his side, and he heaved a dramatic sigh, speaking sideways to her in a stage whisper. "Jeez, I thought we'd have to get the jaws of life!" Sarah giggled.

I rolled my eyes in amusement. "Ha-Ha, Marcus." I added, "Hey, Sarah!" and released Andrew to give her a hug. She returned it and offered a greeting, and when we separated, Andrew extended his hand out to her.

"I want to apologize to you for how I acted the other night at Bocelli's. I wasn't myself." Andrew's face was wrinkled with regret.

Sarah paused a moment before taking his hand. "I understand. Thank you for your apology." She acknowledged, and Andrew's eyes softened, easing away the wrinkles on his face.

I smiled a little, but by no means was I fully pacified. Andrew would have to work harder if he wanted to be forgiven completely.

Marcus scowled and eyed Andrew. He seemed about to question my boyfriend, so I hurriedly gestured at the festival, changing the subject. "Right, so where to first?" I asked.

Sarah pointed out a nearby hot chocolate stand. "What about there? The hot chocolate will keep us warm while we look around."

As it turned out, there were several stands that sold hot chocolate, and Marcus expressed the desire to try each one. "We'll be doing the festival a service, really." He sighed cheekily. I looked to Andrew to see what he thought of this idea, but he didn't seem particularly enthusiastic about it.

"Yeah…" Andrew began, his brow furrowing thoughtfully. "How about you and Sarah do that, and Amelia and I will meet you at the center of this maze? They always have cookies and desserts, so we'll pick some up on the way, and then all of us could meet and eat at the center." He smiled, adding. "Plus, by then you and Sarah will likely be hot chocolate experts."

I nearly missed it when Marcus sent Andrew a sharp, discerning look part way through the suggestion. It vanished as Sarah agreed to the idea, and they started off to begin their chocolate search, Marcus casting one last peculiar glance back at Andrew.

Andrew seemed unaffected by the look, and he led me forward. We wandered through the festival, talking and looking at the different curios, not yet to the dessert section. He kept his arm wrapped gently around my waist as we went. It wasn't long before he broached a subject I had been conflicted about.

"Amelia," He paused, waiting until he had my full attention. "what do you see in the future for us?" Gesturing with his free hand before us as though the future itself were in sight, he explained further. "I want us to get married, but is that what you want?"

Silently I gazed ahead at the booths, momentarily lost to the possibilities as I looked to the future in thought. "I want to, but…" I made a face.

Andrew tilted his head to the side, his brow furrowed as he studied my expression. "But what?"

I met his gaze, my lips pressed thin together as I studied his face. "But I don't know. I'm just… I'm just not ready."

Andrew straightened back up and was quiet, leaving a companionable silence. At length he replied. "But you'll let me know when you are ready?" He inquired.

I nodded a 'yes'.

Heaving a light sigh, he went on. "Well, it can't be helped." Gently he changed the subject, pointing out the booths we were approaching. "It looks like we're coming up on the dessert booths. What do you think we should buy?" He asked.

My shoulders relaxed, relieved that he hadn't pressed me. I'd been worried he'd become upset with my uncertain reply, but he seemed to be handling it better than I expected. That migraine medicine had really made a difference. I returned to the present, gazing on at our options. "Definitely some gingerbread men." I replied. One of the vendors sold the gingerbread cookies at the market, always made fresh that day.

After purchasing a few different desserts, Andrew and I found an empty table that would fit four, for when Marcus and Sarah met up with us. I stayed at the table to save it, and Andrew went to get us some napkins.

I saw Sarah first when she arrived. "Marcus asked me out to dinner!" She quietly confided, her face glowing with happiness as she set down two large cups of hot chocolate between us.

"That's great!" I replied with a smile, and promptly occupied my mouth with a large piece from the gingerbread man when I took a bite to keep my smile from growing too big.

Sarah gave me a funny look, then a smile hugged her lips when I avoided looking at her. "You set us up, didn't you?" She guessed correctly. In my defense, they clearly liked each other.

"What? Me?" I asked innocently, taking a sip of my hot chocolate. I'd had no idea just how hot it was. I had gotten my gingerbread man for that reason, to wait for the cocoa to cool in case it was too hot. In my haste to appear innocent, I'd forgotten that. I winced, internally panicking.

Sarah noticed, and pointed at my gingerbread man, her lips quirking up in amusement. "Maybe another bite of him will help?" I nodded, and managed to do it. The gingerbread soaked up the chocolate, and I took another bite to aid the first.

Andrew returned just then, setting down the napkins on the table, not yet noticing my dilemma, or my chipmunk cheeked state.

"Hey, Turnip. Chocolate any good?" Marcus asked when he'd arrived a moment later, two hot chocolate cups in hand. He got one look at me, and burst into laughter.

I made a face and Andrew looked at me funnily as I spoke around the gingerbread. "Yesh! Ith's hoth!"

Marcus grinned, and handed one of the hot chocolates he was holding to Andrew. Marcus's grin became mildly forced and his eyes hardened as he looked at my boyfriend. I frowned behind my napkin. What was up with Marcus? I glanced between him and Sarah, and noticed how Marcus planted himself between the two, almost protectively, and it hit me that he must have asked her what had happened that made Andrew apologize to her.

Internally I groaned with dread. I knew Marcus, and I knew he was protective of those he cared about. Andrew was in hot water.

"This booth had the best hot chocolate by far." Sarah said, tapping the cup's logo.

Andrew hummed, raising his cup a little to look at it. "I know this cafe. They make good cupcakes, too."

We finished our food, interrupted by conversation and laughter, then deliberated on what to do next.

Andrew reminded us about the light parade the city had planned, but it didn't start for another half hour. Marcus suggested a quick look at the rest of the booths, then a stop at a restroom that was not one of the single plastic stalls outside. That was readily agreed to.

Which is how we came to end up at a little chinese restaurant. The men were quick, and waited in the small lobby for me and Sarah. I returned before her, buttoning up my coat as I went.

I spotted Marcus and Andrew standing near the currently vacant restaurant hostess desk, but they hadn't noticed me yet. I paused nearby when Marcus spoke to Andrew, his tone slowing my steps. "It's good to see you again, Andrew."

I only stopped because of the way he said it. It felt forced; and not at all sincere.

Andrew replied with a similar tone, his shoulders and countenance tense. "Yeah, you too. I haven't seen you since Amelia's company party last year."

Marcus's words turned cool. "Yeah. After which you broke off the engagement because she wouldn't sleep with you. What kind of tool does that?"

Andrew's face seemed to turn to stone, and he said nothing in response.

At the lack of response, Marcus bristled slightly and went on, having no problem giving Andrew a piece of his mind. "This time round, you better do right by her." My coworker shifted on his feet, his eyes narrowing. "If you break her heart, I'll-" Marcus began, but wasn't allowed to finish.

Andrew had cut him off effectively with a raised eyebrow, retorting in stiff amusement as he laughed. "You'll what? Break my legs?" He seemed to think Marcus was joking.

Marcus stopped still to stare at Andrew, and the temperature of the area seemed to drop ten full degrees. He let his eyes trail from the other man's head to his toes and back again, as if calculating the exact amount of damage he could inflict. Marcus' eyes were like frigid twin daggers threatening my boyfriend's wellbeing, and I stared in alarm at the sudden change. At length, my coworker replied.

"To start with."

Then he calmly sipped his hot chocolate.

Andrew paled, Marcus's eyes still fixed upon him.

Lowering his cup, Marcus caught sight of me, and the casual look he'd worn earlier, slipped back into place over his cold countenance. The action surprised me. I had never known Marcus to hide his feelings-so why was he doing so now?

I was distracted from the thought when Marcus spoke. "Let's find a spot for the ladies to sit for the light show." He nodded at me, half in greeting and half pointing me out to Andrew, who followed his gaze. Marcus dropped his empty hot chocolate cup in the nearby garbage bin, and continued to the doors.

I smiled a little at Andrew, and he offered an uncertain one briefly in return.

Marcus called him from the restaurant's double doors, and he hurried over with a rushed. "That's a great idea."

I just barely heard Marcus's quiet, dry reply of, "Don't be a kiss ass." before silence settled between them as they marched away. I watched after them, my eyebrows falling in trepidation. What was that? I frowned in thought.

I appreciated Marcus looking out for me, but that was rather harsh. He'd been really mad at Andrew when he found out why we broke up last time. Marcus had called him a pig, saying Andrew didn't deserve me. I stepped up to the window to watch the snow while I waited for Sarah, trying to decipher this extreme behavior.

"Are we ready?" Sarah's voice behind me alerted me to her return, jolting me from my thoughts.

I nodded. "Yeah, Marcus and Andrew are trying to find a place for us to sit for the parade."

I faced the window as Sarah stopped at my side, and together we watched the snow falling outside. It looked to be coming down heavier than before.

The boys had found a place for us to sit, just under an awning on the corner of the street. The window of the shop that owned the awning, had a wide brick windowsill, wide and deep enough that the four of us could sit on it and watch the show. The time we spent watching the light show passed quickly, conversation and comments about the floats filling it up.

We went our separate ways after the light show was over, and I gave Marcus and Sarah each a quick hug before we said our goodbyes.

The snow had let up before we merged with the late afternoon traffic, the sun growing closer to the horizon, and staining the clouds and sky a rosy pink. We were halfway to my house, when Andrew nodded at a sign indicating an upcoming exit. "Why don't we stop by the lake to watch the sunset? It's so beautiful up there."

He spoke so dreamily about it, I found myself agreeing. It really was a beautiful place. It was surrounded by tree covered mountains and hills, and the lake sparkled like sapphires. It was one of the most popular locations for camping and barbecuing during the few spring and summer months.

The lake was still when we arrived, and at first I thought that the storm had missed the area entirely, for the icy surface gleamed in the sunlight, uncovered by snow. In looking harder, though, I realized the snow had actually just been blown across the lake; creating drifts here and there against the lakeshore and embracing the base of the trees that touched it.

The sky was darker now than it had been, the sun having gone down considerably, and due to the weather, we found ourselves quite alone. Andrew and I sat on an obliging bench, not far from the lake shore. The lake blurrily reflected the sunset and surrounding mountains, like a mirror that fogs up during a shower. It reflected colors and vague shapes, but nothing was exact.

"I'm glad we did this today." Andrew began, scooting a little closer to me, his arm around my shoulders already holding me close.

I looked up at him in question, and he smiled crookedly as he explained. "The carnival and light show," He flicked his gaze up at the setting sun. "and the two of us here, watching the sunset. All of it." He turned his attention back to me. "Thank you for agreeing to do this."

I nodded, smiling, and added. "Thank you for apologizing to Sarah. You still need to apologize to Jareth, though." I reminded him at the end, giving him a light look.

Andrew's lips twisted in a grimace. "I know. I can't give him what he deserves." Andrew half murmured, then studied my face a moment, focusing on my lips before continuing. "Not right now, anyway. I'll do my best soon, I promise." The way he said it seemed a little odd, but I couldn't figure out why.

His sudden, playful kiss on the end of my nose derailed my train of thought, and I blinked up at him, giggling.

"What was that for?" I questioned, amused.

Andrew shrugged nonchalantly and took his arm from around my shoulders, saying matter-of-factly. "Because you look adorable when you're thinking. Did you now that?"

I grinned. "I didn't."

Stretching his arms up towards the sky, Andrew sighed as they came back down, and he stood up. "Well, now you know." He said cheekily, then peered up at the sunset.

By now, it was merely a shadow of its former glory, leaving a golden red glow over the mountains like a fading footprint in a growing snowstorm.

"Hey, check this out." Andrew waved me toward the shore, but started off without me.

Bemused, I stood up to follow and stopped abruptly when Andrew began carefully walking out onto the ice.

"What are you doing?!" I demanded, my feet carrying my closer in panic.

"It's completely frozen." Andrew stated, stepping around the edge of the ice. It held, as he said it would, but I felt my stomach sink with a terrible foreboding.

"No, stop!" I snapped worriedly.

He ignored me a moment, then seemed to change his mind. "Oh!" I began to relax as he came up to me. But instead of apologizing and suggesting we go, he pulled out his phone from his pocket with a grin, opened the camera app, and put the device in my hand. "Here," He turned again to the lake and hurried back to the edge, stepping out onto the ice before I could think to reach out and stop him. "Take a picture, Babe!" Andrew called as he did an about face, and threw up his arms to flex.

I sputtered, gaping at him. "What-?! No! This is reckless!" I motioned anxiously for him to return. "Come back!"

Andrew made a face. "Aw, come on! Look," He moved further out onto the ice, despite my panicked pleas for him to return. He stopped just over a dozen feet away, and began lightly hopping in place. "See? Solid as a rock."

A crack resounding below him and echoing out over the lake, clearly declared its disagreement.

In horror I watched as the ice broke, and swallowed him whole. "ANDREW!"

Without thinking, I ran to the edge of the lake. I just stopped myself from dashing out onto it, and instead tore off my coat and put his phone in one of the waterproofed pockets where my own phone was residing. I went to me knees, the hood of my coat in one hand, and from there I stretched out into an army crawl.

The ice against my skin was shocking, and I clenched my teeth and controlled my breath as I crawled forward, grateful I'd worn thick clothing.

Andrew's head emerged from the frigid lake water with a gasp, and frantically he began trying to pull himself up. The ice before him cracked again, and I shouted at him to stop.

"I-It's f-fine! I c-can do i-it!" He started to assure me, not yet noticing me, when I spoke over him.

"Shut up and listen!" I shouted angrily.

Andrew's mouth opened, not to argue, but to gape in shock. At least, until he registered that I was now on the ice with him, and his face paled.

"Are you mad?! Return to the shore this instant!" He managed to bark, fury and fear warring over his features.

I stopped still in surprise, then scowled and continued forward. "No. I know what to do. Stop thrashing around and breath steadily." I told him, and then I kept on crawling, keeping an ear on the ice below me.

He opened and shut his mouth like a fish trying to find words. I gave him my best glare.

At a loss, he obeyed, and breathed deeply while I spoke. "Stretch your arms over the ice toward me and kick your legs so you're horizontal, then lift yourself at your elbows." I pushed my coat forward as he followed my instructions. "I'm going to swing the sleeve of my coat out to you. Put your arm in it, and start crawling this way. It'll give you additional traction. I'll start pulling you until you're free of the ice." Andrew put his arm into the coat. "Once you're out, let go of the coat and roll yourself-" Andrew gave me an odd look, and I glared. "-yes, roll-toward me and the shore."

Andrew offered an indecipherable response as affirmation, then began to crawl toward me.

We managed to make it back to solid ground, then into Andrew's car. I retrieved the emergency blanket from the first aid kit in his trunk, which I had given to him back when we'd first considered getting married . Wrapped up in that, he returned my coat gratefully and huddled in the front passenger seat and cranked up the heater to full blast.

I set my phone's gps to the nearest hospital, and in ten minutes we arrived.

Andrew was immediately admitted into the ER, and we were both brought to a room. They treated Andrew while I sat nearby, my anger melting enough to allow full concern. Andrew's teeth were still chattering a little from the cold, making it difficult for him to speak. I explained what had happened, and the doctor and nurses gave Andrew a look that perfectly embodied how I'd felt at the time of the incident. They were less verbal about their thoughts, but it was clear that collectively, they thought Andrew was an idiot.

After a time, we were left to ourselves, and Andrew lay back on the hospital bed, looking considerably better than he had after falling in the lake.

"Amelia." Andrew reached out to me, and I stood from my seat, taking his hand and sitting on the edge of the bed beside him.

"Yes?" I questioned. I noticed his voice was steadier now, if a bit weaker than normal.

"I have something to say." He stole a breath, then continued. "First, that I'm sorry. What I did was stupid." Andrew squeezed my hand tightly in his, and I nodded to show that I both heard, and agreed with him. It really was stupid. He continued. "I realize now just how short life is-and I don't want to waste it anymore. " Andrew looked me dead in the eye, fervent.

My brow furrowed, and Andrew spoke three familiar words.

"Marry me, Amelia."

I stared at him. I didn't know what to say, but Andrew took my silence as encouragement.

"I want to spend more time with you. My boss is thinking of giving me a promotion. If he does, we could travel the world." Andrew took my hand in both of his, holding it gently. "Think of it, Amelia. You and me. We could go anywhere you want." He smiled, his eyes sparkling. "Just say the word."

I looked down at our hands where they rested upon Andrew's knee, and his thumb swept softly over the back of my hand as I thought on his proposal. It sounded nice. Really nice, in fact. But then Jareth came to mind. How things had started to change between us. How I felt when I was with him, vs. how I felt when I was with Andrew.

"Andrew, that sounds really nice…" I stole a quiet breath, and Andrew's thumb swept smoothly over the back of my hand again in encouragement. "...Could I think more on it?"

His expression sank with disappointment, and I placed my other hand over his. "It's just such a big decision."

Andrew studied me, then at length he sighed, and raised the back of my hand to his lips, laying a tender kiss upon it. "It is. I understand." He smiled lightly.

His free hand reached up and cupped my face, and he leaned forward to kiss me. I was still trying to process his proposal, as his breath was beginning to brush against my lips, when a sudden warmth grew rapidly and radiated from my ring. Before I could fully realize what was happening, the ring surged with power, and Andrew shouted in pain and released me.

At that same moment, his heart monitor flickered as though hit with that same power surge, then it began rapidly beeping an alarm as Andrew's heart rate increased drastically. Falling back onto his pillows, Andrew's face twisted in pain as he cradled his hand, recoiling from me.

"Andrew!" I cried, but I was drowned out by his heart monitor, and a moment later by the nurse that hurried in.

Stunned, I stepped back to give her room while she checked Andrew. I felt like I couldn't breath.

"It's fine-I'm fine!" Andrew insisted, trying to reassure me and simultaneously shoo away the nurse, but the red welt on his hand where the ring had shocked him, stood out in violent contrast against his skin, and the reaction of the nurse told me it was worse than he let on.

I felt sick. I needed to step out.

As the second nurse came inside to see what all the commotion was, I moved around the bed with a murmured excuse to Andrew. "I'm-I'm so sorry-I need a second." Andrew started to reiterate that he was fine, but sucked in a breath at the pain when the nurse began examining his hand. She told the second nurse to go and get something for the wound, and that was the last straw for me. I stepped out with her, feeling increasingly ill.

The woman hurried up the corridor, and I looked around for a room-any room-that was free. I found one a few doors down that was empty, and it seemed to very recently have been cleaned. I went inside and shut the door behind me, closing the curtain as well. If someone opened the door, I'd have a few moments warning before the curtain was pulled open.

Striding to the window, I cast my gaze out on the newly falling snow, trying to collect myself. The ill feeling began to dissipate as I breathed, and once I was certain I was alright, I lifted my hand and looked upon my ring. "Tell Jareth I need to speak to him. Now."

The ring glimmered briefly in the moonlit room, apprehension coming off of it, but it obediently flickered and gradually went dark. As soon as the light faded, I pulled the ring from my finger, and held it in the palm of my hand while nausea crept in. Forcing it away, I folded my arms, and watched the dark sky. A moment later I felt the shift in the air and the gathering of magic. I half turned, not yet facing him.

I heard his boots shifting on the linoleum floor, and felt his surprise and confusion. Biting the tip of my tongue briefly, I faced him properly.

Jareth stood there, looking perplexed and concerned. "Amelia?"

"I need you to take the ring back, and find another means for communication." I lifted my hand and offered the ring to him. His eyes focused on it, sharpening in recognition. A wary scowl lit upon his lips.

The king cast his gaze fleetingly up to meet my own a moment, trying to deduce the situation. He moved slowly closer as his eyes returned to the ring. "What's happened? It hasn't harmed you, surely?" He came forward faster at his words until he was before me, and reached out to take my hand in both of his. He examined both my hand and the ring thoroughly, with equal parts concern and confusion.

My face reddened, and I shook my head 'no', attempting to pull my hand free. "Not me." When Jareth raised an eyebrow to prompt me to continue, I did. "It hurt Andrew."

The concern on Jareth's face immediately evaporated into relief, then into satisfaction, and even mild amusement. "Well, if that's all. I can't say I blame it."

"It's not funny!" I huffed. He was making light of the situation, and I did not appreciate it. "It really hurt him!" I turned my fist over so I could drop the ring into his hand once he was ready to receive it. "Here. I won't keep it any longer-not if it's going to continue to hurt others." I sensed a faint panic from the ring, and it almost gave me pause.

Jareth shifted on his feet, studying my expression shrewdly, and gently ignoring my hand as he cautioned. "The ring's sole duty is to you. It is your shield against those who might wish to do you harm." He shook his head. "It would not harm another without cause."

My brow furrowed. I knew the ring was meant to protect me, but from Andrew? Why?

The gentleness of Jareth's tone and countenance melted slightly, leaving the beginning hints of a dangerous anger. "In which case; what, may I ask, was he doing to cause the ring to react in such a contrary manner?"

I turned my next words over in my mouth with hesitation before speaking. "He...tried to kiss me."

At this, Jareth's eyes narrowed subtly, his anger changing to a warmer temperature.

I went on in a hurry upon seeing the change. "But it was just a kiss! The ring didn't react when we kissed earlier today, so why do it now?" My brow furrowed in frustration, and I looked down at my closed fist. What had changed between then and now? The more I thought on it, the more I was convinced that nothing was different. It just didn't make sense! My frustration mounted, making tears burn in my eyes. I blinked them back as Jareth spoke. His voice had turned gentle once more.

"I won't take it back-let me explain." Jareth clarified when I looked up at him in protest. His lips had formed a thin line, having noticed my tears. He went on. "If I can...encourage the ring to not harm Andrew, will you keep it? It will be able to continue as a means of communication, and it will continue protecting you, but it will not intervene for anything else, unless your life is in danger. Can you accept that?"

I frowned, studying his expression. He looked like he meant it.

At length I nodded. "Yes."

Jareth opened his hand beneath mine to accept the ring, and after only a moment's hesitation, I released the ring into his care.

At once I felt ill-worse than I had when I removed the ring, and worse even than when Andrew had been hurt. I bit my tongue and watched Jareth.

Lifting the ring between his fingers, Jareth studied it, concentrating. I had the impression he was communicating with it, but I couldn't begin to know what he was saying.

Only a handful of seconds passed, when Jareth's expression at last eased and he lifted his gaze to meet mine. "There. It will no longer harm Andrew." That said, he offered me the ring.

I took it back, still a little wary. Putting it on, the ring confirmed to me it would not hurt Andrew again, and my shoulders relaxed. The ill feeling vanished, and I closed my eyes with a sigh of relief. I could feel the color returning gradually to my cheeks, and the overall feeling of safety settled over me like a layer of sunlight.

There was a tumultuous feeling from Jareth in the air between us, and I opened my eyes to look to him in question.

His expression was hard, the gentleness of a moment ago gone. "If I might make a suggestion?" It was posed as a question, but it felt more commanding than that. Oddly, almost formal.

I straightened at the change, and carefully nodded.

"This situation has been taxing for you. Perhaps it would be best, if you found a mate less likely to cause you such distress."

My eyebrows rose and fell from shock to outrage in a heartbeat, and my face burned hot. "E-Excuse me?!"

My anger flared. "You do not get to tell me who I should or should not date. You have no right to such a thing." In my anger, I spat. "And anyway, there's no need. Andrew has proposed to me, and I am considering his offer."

The stunned expression on Jareth's face hit me hard. Initially he seemed unable to respond, then at last he spoke.

"What?"

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A/N: Thanks for reading, and kindly leave a review!


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: Thanks for reading! A very special thanks to LovelyAmberLight for inspiring this chapter, and pointing out an error that was then fixed!

Disclaimer: I clearly don't own it!

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A Writer Required

Chapter Twenty-Four

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"Yes, yes, I know." I sighed to my goblin chamberlain.

He was rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet in anxiety. He'd come to tell me that my decision on the dining room was required. Special dinnerware and decorations needed to be chosen for the ball to be had, once I announced my 'wife'.

I grimaced.

The grimace was not in regards to Aerol, for she was a kind woman. But rather it was the idea that pecked at me. The idea, that this celebration should really be for Amelia.

But that could not be, for Amelia had chosen Andrew. There would be no ball for her, now.

A few days had passed since then, and Baard informed me after delivering my notes to her, that she had told him that she and Andrew would soon be out of town, inspecting homes, hoping to find one to call their own.

My jaw clenched, and I glared at the document before me. If I had not been so presumptuous in suggesting that she find another mate, perhaps she would not have chosen him. The thought that I had unwittingly pushed her into the choice, made me feel all the more terrible.

So what chance did I have now? Their relationship was apparently serious enough, that they were looking for a home for themselves!

Everything had gone terribly wrong.

I sighed in frustration, which transformed into resignation, as I signed my name in practiced strokes on the document before me, authorizing the purchase of one hundred white lilies and gardenias for the tables.

It was becoming monotonous, this wedding planning. Aerol was not enthusiastic about offering input for the style or plans as a whole, and I couldn't really blame her. It might have made some decisions easier, though.

I handed the document, along with a stack of others wrapped together with ribbons to secure them, into the chamberlain's thick set arms. He barely twitched, but his expression of anxiety faded to relief. "Have all of that taken care of, then inform me once you've finished." I commanded.

The goblin bowed. "Yes, m'Lord, as you say!" With impressive speed, he shuffled rapidly from the room, leaving me to savor a moment's peace.

I eased back into my desk chair and sighed as I relaxed. Finally, some peace.

A vaguely familiar burning sensation on my chest made me open my eyes, and I scowled down at it. What was wrong with the pendant now? I huffed, and the burning ceased once it had my attention.

Amelia! Came the impression from the pendant.

My eyebrows rose, and mentally I questioned the pendant as I sat up in my seat. 'What about her? What's wrong?' I thought.

Amelia! It repeated. Drowning!

My eyebrows lowered. Was her ring confusing a bath for drowning again? I sat back in my seat in annoyance. I reached a hand up to the bridge of my nose and shut my eyes. This was too much. Had I not already discussed with her ring what constituted drowning?

Despite these thoughts, I felt an odd sense of foreboding.

Unsettles by the feeling, I heaved a wary sigh, and decided I better reply. Out loud to the pendant, I muttered. "If she is bathing, she is not drowning." I felt the pendant latch onto my words, pull them in, and then they faded as they were sent to Amelia's ring. I waited in expectation for its sheepish reply. With my current mood, I was more than ready to rebuke it.

It was not a sheepish reply that came.

It was urgent.

Panicked.

The ring was panicking.

The ring sent to the pendant a frantic heartbeat, and a feeling of terror that radiated out and brushed my chest like arctic water, hitting me so hard, it knocked the wind out of me.

I gasped in a breath and shot forward, leaning against the study desk. "What…" I breathed, but an instant later, an image filled my mind.

One that I would never forget.

From the ring's perspective, I saw Amelia. She was in a large vehicle full of people. Water was pouring in from every side, already to her shoulders. Her face was twisted in agony, blood streaming down her face into her eyes. The ring was submerged, then, and I could see blood rising up from her leg where it was pinched in between a seat and the vehicle wall. Her left hand pulled at the seat, while her right hand struggled to pull her leg free, and the water continued swiftly to rise.

The image vanished, but remained burned into my mind's eye.

I barely registered transporting myself to the Above. My clothes magicked to Above clothing just before I arrived on a bridge. I was hit once more with that sense of foreboding-similar to how I felt when Tasha and Teren had-I stopped that thought. I would not believe it.

The pendant indicated the direction I should go, communicating silently with me. My eyes spotted a small crowd of people gathering halfway down the bridge, on the opposite side from where I had arrived.

They had come together, all looking down in horror at the water and speaking to each other of police and ambulances.

There was a massive hole in the layer of ice upon the river.

Removing my suit coat, I dropped it on the railing and removed my shoes. I heard several shouts and a scream for me to stop, as I was diving off the bridge. A quick spell at my hands kept my meeting with the water a great deal gentler than it would have been otherwise at such a height. I altered the magic with a thought, and a warm layer of magic like a shield spread over my body to protect against the cold.

The bus was resting at the bottom of the river.

I reached it quickly with the aid of magic, and entered through one of the shattered windows. A gruesome sight greeted me.

Still, cold, and lifeless bodies were everywhere I turned. I put out tendrils of magic, in hopes someone might have survived. While my magic was busy in this task, I busied myself by looking for Amelia. I found her, and my heart stopped. It was one thing to see her through the ring. It was something else, completely, to see her with my own two eyes.

She was frozen in the same position I had seen her in before. Her hand loosely wrapped around her leg, her eyes shut. Her golden hair was rendered dark green in the blue light, her pale skin ice blue. I was reaching out to her when I felt something brush my arm.

Startled, I turned to see a hand near my arm, and Andrew, his eyes closed as though he were merely sleeping. I nudged my magic toward him, and discovered he was merely unconscious. I pulled Andrew by the shoulder after me as I continued to Amelia.

My magic continued to relay to me the state of the other individuals on the bus, my heart sinking with each death it confirmed. I reached Amelia. I wrapped one arm around her back, and braced my feet against the seats nearby. I stretched out my palm to the metal around her ankle, and with a small burst of magic, the metal gave a muffled groan as it bent slightly away from her leg.

Scooping her legs up in my other arm, I held her close. The magic keeping me warm and allowing me to breath spread to encompass Amelia as well, and Andrew afterwards.

Adjusting my hold, I ended up with one arm wrapped around Amelia's waist, leaving a hand free to pull Andrew by the collar of his coat to bring him with us. Certain I had a firm hold on both of them, I pushed off from the bus and out into the water. The current pulled us downriver, and a long shadow above marked the bridge. Once beneath its shadow, a half thrust of my hand at the ice caused it to shatter upwards, clearing a path to the river bank.

We reached the bank, and I lifted Amelia up onto the snow covered concrete slab encircling the first of the bridge's foundations. I followed after, and pulled Andrew up last, laying him down nearby. I heard him cough and out of the corner of my eye as I turned to Amelia, I noted he was now breathing, though still unconscious. Amelia had not moved once since I had saved her from the vehicle.

Her skin was an unhealthy blue in contrast to the pure white of the snow, and the sight made me sick inside. "Amelia!" I breathed, cupping her face in my hands. "Amelia, wake up!"

She did not respond, and her chest did not lift to show she was breathing. "No!" Placing one hand on her chest just above her heart, I placed the other upon her forehead. Quietly I murmured, and pale yellow light surrounded my hands.

Amelia coughed, expelling water from her lips and clearing her lungs of the freezing substance. My heart felt a spark of hope.

It was short lived.

The water had all been removed, but she did not take in a new breath as I had anticipated.

My heart sank.

In a moment of desperation, I tried every magical remedy I could think of, but nothing worked.

There was nothing more I could do.

Amelia was dead.

The feeling I experienced before, the feeling of foreboding, had been as the one that declared Tasha's death. The connection between us had been shattered then, just as it had been shattered now. A glance at her lightless, silent ring, would confirm as much.

For an instant, the slight realization that I was free of our marriage contract hit me. This was not my fault, but an accident.

These thoughts were quickly and harshly pushed away. I was crushed by the loss of Amelia, the pain of it so much so that I felt it nearly rip out my soul. 'I don't want-I can't go on without her.' I realized. 'I can't.' My chest grew tight, making it difficult for me to breath. Numbly, I lifted Amelia against my chest, my other hand cupping her cold face.

'I can't go through this again, I can't lose another wife. Not again.' Tears blurred my vision, and I shut my eyes as I pressed my forehead to hers. "Wake up. Please, wake up." I wished, despite the truth.

In my heart, I wished that this was all some horrendous nightmare. That all of this was imagined. That at any moment I would wake in my study, to find I had merely dozed off.

But it wasn't.

Amelia was gone.

Something within me snapped, and my eyes opened as I looked upon her, my face contorting in anguish and fury.

"No!" I snarled aloud. "I won't lose you, too!"

I ignored the tears falling from my eyes, and straightened up.

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and gathered magic into a spell. Opening my eyes, I looked down into my hand, where the spell had formed a single crystal. Firm determination settled upon my haunted face as my eyes fell down to Amelia.

In what I wanted to try next, I knew I was limited. Such magic was terribly draining, not counting the magic I had already used in order to save, and attempt to revive Amelia.

But I could turn back time.

The limitations for fae in that regard were a mere thirteen minutes-but that might be just enough time in this instance.

I was not a stranger to turning back time. I had done it for Sarah when she had been a champion of the Labyrinth, solving it had given her special powers. To me it had granted an incredible well of magic, and allowed me the generous gift of reordering time for her sake. Turning back time for her, that she might return to her family without a great deal of time passing in her own world.

I could not turn back time for Tasha and Teren, as too much time had passed before I found them.

But there might be just enough time, that I could do it for Amelia. It would be terribly draining, and I would have to struggle to hold onto every minute, but I could save her.

Holding the crystal aloft, I loosed the spell. A warm light shone from the crystal like a second sun, and I watched time that had been, play out before my eyes.

As though my spirit had been pulled from my body, I observed the scene before me.

I watched myself realizing Amelia was dead, the stricken expression looking as painful as it had felt at that time, and feeling doubly so now.

I forced myself to focus. I had to concentrate.

I watched myself trying futilely to revive her, I watched as I carried her and Andrew back into the water where we had emerged. Moments later, I watched myself during the dive and before that standing at the broken railing of the bridge, eyes frantically scouring the surface of the water.

With the flitting of a thought, I was once more attop the bridge as time continued its smooth reversal.

The crystal I had held followed beside me and hovered nearby, continuing to glow. I was busy watching myself searching the bridge, and then when I appeared and came from behind a pillar. I took a deep breath as I moved forward and merged with my past self. Once settled there properly, I pulled myself free of the timeline, and focused my attention once more on the spell.

'Just a bit longer.' I thought. I had failed to notice before, but through the course of the spell, I had been growing weaker, and by now I was beginning to feel it profoundly.

Time continued to rewind itself. Minutes passed like seconds, and my anxiety mounted.

She'd been submerged for longer than I thought. Would I still be able to save her?

I breathed again when with a splash, the massive vehicle rose from the water, straightening up from when it had flipped.

The bus came higher and higher, and my heart ached painfully at the thought of Amelia, terrified, inside that metal death trap as it had plunged for the icy river.

The bus kept rising upward, the ice beneath had repaired itself as though it'd never been disturbed. The vehicle at last met with the edge of the bridge, and came back up until it was sliding on its side, the metal and asphalt sparks that had shot up from the friction, reversed themselves, vanishing from existence under the bus.

The guard rail flew back together, and I acted as the bus continued sliding toward me. With a thought, I put a spell on the bus so that it would slow to a stop before it reached the railing. Satisfied, I glanced at the time spell nearby and brought it to an end just before the spell ran out. I'd have just a little magic left. I hoped it would be enough.

Time resumed without preamble.

The screeching of the bus was shrill like a scream of fright, but just as I had planned, the vehicle began to slow.

I sprang into action and ran toward the bus as it came to a stop at the railing. I eyed it briefly to be certain it was stopped safely. Satisfied it was, I continued. Removing my suit coat, I tossed it up onto the side of the bus before pulling myself up with it. I took it with me after I shoved open the partially opened door, and carefully lowered myself inside.

Before, where there had been only silence and death, there was now only life.

Those inside were wounded, though alive, and as I went, I searched for Amelia. Halfway down the bus I noticed an emergency skylight, and swiftly I opened it, checking first to be certain it was safe, then I began waving the wounded toward it. "Everyone exit here! Quickly!"

A sound nearby made my heart stop.

"...Jareth?..." Amelia's quiet voice croaked. I turned. I moved as fast as I could over the seats and through the passengers, and came to a halt when I saw Amelia near the back of the bus.

Her right leg was stuck, but it did not appear to be broken, and a gash across her forehead was just beginning to stream blood down her face.

Her leg was not as I remembered it before, but her bloody gash was. It was still there, but unlike before, the blood had not been over half of her face, then later washed away by the river. I was still only a moment, and then I went to her.

"Jareth?" She repeated sluggishly, surprise and confusion furrowing her brow. She looked around as I reached her, wincing at her leg as I worked to free it. "Where... Where's Andrew?" I glanced over my shoulder where I remembered Andrew had been before. He was slumped against another seat.

I checked him, pressing two fingers to his neck, when suddenly I felt eyes on my back.

The hair on my neck rose, and I tensed.

A negative presence struck me, leaving me feeling breathless. What was it? The feeling was vaguely familiar. Similar to how I felt when Bachzuk looked at me.

I felt suddenly cold. Bachzuk. Could it be a djinn? At once I cast a glance over my shoulder, peering toward the presence.

My eyes met with a man dressed in black and grey. His large eyes, set in a reddish tan face, were fixed upon me, and the suffocating feeling increased. Almost unnoticeably, I could see a faint outline of red light around his face.

It was a djinn.

Did he know who I was? It seems he would have been more inclined to leave, if that was the case.

A thought occurred to me as I watched him. Could he have been the cause of the accident? Djinns without a master were known for such things. Causing havoc and mayhem wherever and whenever they pleased.

For an instant, I could swear his eyes had drifted down and to the side, towards Amelia, but in the next moment, his reddish brown gaze fixed once more upon me. I shifted where I was to better face him, but one of the passengers passed between us, and when they had moved clear, the djinn had vanished.

I felt cold, but the negative feeling and breathlessness I had experienced, disappeared with the djinn. He was gone. Or, at the very least, out of sight.

Had he recognized me? I was so exhausted and nearly magically spent, it could very well be that my human disguise had grown thin, and the djinn had seen who I truly was.

I studied the area he had occupied with a hard look and a sinking stomach, then slowly turned my attention back to Andrew.

He was unconscious, but his chest rose and fell to show he was breathing, and his heart beat was steady. He did not appear to be injured, apart from a bruised bump forming on his forehead.

"He's alive." I replied curtly, returning my attention to my wife. Adjusting my grip on the seat above her leg, I used just enough magic to warp it slightly-just enough to allow her to be free of it. I paused a moment to take stock of my magical reserves. There was just enough for me to return home once Amelia was safe.

Carefully I wrapped my suit coat around Amelia's shoulders, and lifted her into my arms. She gave a faint sound of protest, which I acknowledged with a haunted glance. I was too shaken from seeing her die, that I could barely speak as it was. I had no desire to allow her the possibility of coming to more harm by attempting to emerge from this metal beast by her own efforts. No, I had to be certain she was safe.

Her eyes widened upon seeing my expression, and she fell abruptly silent. Amelia eventually leaned against me as I stood, relaxing as I cradled her in my arms. I could feel her eyes on my face, sense her question. She was alarmed and confused by my expression, but I could not explain to her why it was so. I was not sure I could ever speak of what I had seen today.

I looked over to Andrew as he was beginning to stir. "Andrew." I snapped coolly. At the sound of his name, he came to fully, groggy but certainly conscious. His eyes made their way upward, taking in Amelia, and then myself.

His face wrinkled first with alarm and worry upon seeing the bloodied face of his fiance, then twisted in pale faced anger as his eyes landed on me. However, there was something off about his expression. Casting his gaze around at the wreckage, a strange look entered his eyes, and he looked once more to me, as though piecing something together. His face darkened, and he opened his mouth to speak as he struggled to his feet, but I preceded him.

"Feel free to rebuke me later, if you feel so inclined. For now I intend to see Amelia to a healer."

I turned away, speaking to Amelia quietly. "Dearest, can you manage to put your arms around my neck? I'm going to need to climb over the seats to reach the exit." Amelia murmured a response, and I wasn't sure she had understood, until she shifted with a wince and reached up to put her arms around my neck. She was clearly still dazed from the accident.

Once certain she had a good grip, I reached up my arm that had been behind her, to the seats above us, holding onto the nearest handrail, but also keeping my upper arm against her back in case she should lose her grip. Then as carefully as I could, I stepped from the end of one seat to another, taking hold of the handrails above as I went.

I heard shuffling behind me, and peered over my shoulder and Amelia's arms to see Andrew following, maneuvering across the seats in the same manner as I. His eyes were focused on his task, but I caught the brief, calculating glare of anger he aimed at me.

He seemed surprised I had seen the look, and he quickly turned his gaze back to maneuvering through the wreckage.

I watched him a second more to be certain he could manage it, before I continued on to the skylight.

A few of the passengers were left, helping each other to climb out. A man-himself looking rather battered-was standing just outside the skylight. He was busy assisting the others from inside by holding onto them as they exited the vehicle, and steadying them once they'd come down safely to the ground. I recognized him as the driver of the bus. The flashing of blue and red lights shining on him, and into the wreckage from the escape hatch, informed me that an emergency vehicle or more had arrived.

When our turn came, Amelia murmured. "I think I can walk."

I gave her a stern look. "Once we're free of this metal beast," I assured her quietly. "but not before." Her lips turned down in a frown, but I was not to be swayed.

I set her carefully on the lip of the hatch, and the driver assisted her to the ground. I shortly followed.

I felt a measure of gratitude for the driver's efforts, before my attention was brought back to my wife. Emergency vehicles had indeed arrived, and I led Amelia with care to the nearest ambulance.

When it was her turn, a medic cleaned and patched her wound. Blood remained on her face, but it could easily be washed away. Once the task was complete, the man who had tended to Amelia told her she would need to go with the others who were on the bus, to be evaluated at the hospital. More police vehicles had arrived while the medics were busy or had taken the passengers needing urgent care away, and the officers were to aid in transporting the remaining passengers.

Amelia made a face at the mention of the hospital, and I felt a sliver of amusement tug at my lips at her expression. Despite that, I escorted her to the appointed police vehicle, and declined when the officer asked me to enter. "I saw the accident, I wasn't in it." I told him simply.

He took this in stride, instead ushering another passenger, and then Andrew, into the back of the vehicle.

Amelia hesitated at the door, and at the last moment turned to face me, my coat still around her shoulders. Neither of us seemed to realize she still had it, or that her hand had been in mine almost the entire time since we exited the bus. "Thank you, Jareth." Her voice was still a little rough, and her eyes grew tearful.

"Always, dearest." I returned gently.

The officer cleared his throat.

Amelia blushed, and I smiled lightly, assisting her into the vehicle.

I stayed a moment longer, to be sure the vehicle was safely away, then began to make my way home. I had a few inquiries to make about the djinn I had seen on the bus. It's presence had me worried. Was it a coincidence? Or was it something sinister?

A heavy scowl settled upon my lips.

Whatever the reason, I would find out.

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A/N: What did you think? Let me know in a review! Constructive criticism is welcome!


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: I'm glad you guys liked the last chapter! A big thanks and shout out to LovelyAmberLight for her thoughts and advice-she's amazing!

Reply to: Thevoiceslockedaway: Yes, yes you may! ;D XD

Disclaimer: You know the drill. *waves you on*

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A Writer Required

Chapter Twenty-Five

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It was strange, but both Jareth and Andrew had started to act differently. They both began to visit more often, and occasionally, would arrive when one of them was already present. Such an event made both behave irritably, though Andrew considerably more so.

Jareth had been acting oddly since the bus accident. He'd spend moments in deep concentration when he visited, seeming to be somewhere else. And the way he looked at me...it was a look I had not seen before. It was almost urgent. Almost as if he were checking on me, assuring himself of something. Each time, he'd seem to catch himself, and his expression would ease slightly until he appeared reassured. He seemed to need slight physical contact as well, as very often he would throw his arm absently across the back of the seat I'd be occupying, his arm just barely meeting with my back. He seemed more at ease this way, and I didn't mind-if anything, I felt safe.

Andrew had changed as well-he was more spontaneous, bringing me flowers or taking me to particularly fancy dinners. He even skipped work a few times to spend a day with me, taking me on mini road trips. He promised once we were married, he would get that promotion, and we would be able to travel the world together.

I hadn't told him-but I wasn't so sure I really wanted to marry him. I hadn't even told him I'd marry him. I hadn't accepted his proposal, though as I truthfully told Jareth, I had been considering it.

Andrew seemed to take my non-answer as a positive, though, seeing as I didn't turn him down. But the more he went on thinking this, the more I felt I was making a mistake in considering choosing him.

Was I? Was I making a mistake in choosing Andrew?

My mind remained turning over these thoughts for some time, until at last when Jareth would arrive, and I would put those thoughts to the side for the time being.

Now, Jareth and I sat at the kitchen table, my computer before me and a mug of the queen's garden tea before him, and scents from the peach cobbler I was baking in the oven, filling the air around us.

He really liked the tea, which secretly pleased me a great deal, being that I'd designed it. One of his arms was draped along the back of my chair, the other resting beside his tea.

I punched the keys on my keyboard, distracted by Jareth's nearby presence and his steady, deep voice. "I rode the dragon-" He was saying, and I was writing it down. But I found myself becoming increasingly distracted by the comforting warmth of his body and the smell of his cologne. "Amelia…" Jareth's faintly amused voice jogged me from my thoughts and I looked at him. His eyes were mirthful and his lips turned up in a smile.

"Oh-Sorry, I was-" I blushed.

"-writing down your shopping list." Jareth finished, lifting his eyebrows at the table where a handwritten list on a piece of paper sat nearby, then his eyes flicked up at the illuminated laptop screen.

Brow furrowing, my eyes followed his. There on the screen were the beginnings of the list I had for shopping; the same things on the list on the table. I ducked my head in embarrassment. "Sorry..." I apologized, deleting 'sugar, flour, dish soap…', and Jareth hummed.

"Perhaps we should stop for the day?" He suggested, and my heart fell in disappointment.

"Oh… Yeah, sure." I shrugged and avoided his gaze.

I could feel his eyes on me as I saved the document, then moved to close the laptop.

"Are you unwell? You seem distressed." He spoke quietly, leaning forward to see my face. My heart jumped and my face reddened. I pressed my lips together thin, pausing halfway through closing my laptop. Yes, I was distressed-he was distressing me. At some point in taking on this job, I'd fallen in love with him. Jareth, who only chose me because I was his last resort.

That thought alone, made my heart sink and my stomach twist.

It should have been a clue to me from the beginning that this would be strictly business. He could never love me, we could never be together, and it was foolish of me to think we could be in the first place. It was an impossibility.

A lump took up residency in my throat and no amount of swallowing could make it disappear. Tears pricked at my eyes.

'I'm such an idiot!' I thought. Now angry at myself for my tears, I closed the laptop fully with a snap. I bit the inside of my bottom lip to keep it from trembling. I would keep calm, and try to hide under a 'nothing's wrong, I'm just fine' mask. I wouldn't let him see how upset I really was. Taking a silent deep breath to quell the tears, I turned my gaze in a glance to meet Jareth's. The Goblin King's eyebrows lifted high and his eyes widened. "I'm fine." I assured him stiffly, and before he could reply, I was reaching to pick up the laptop and then standing to put it away.

His hand on the table swooped in to stop mine in a gentle grip. "No." His tone was just as gentle, surprising me out of my retreat and causing me to sit back down in my seat. I watched him warily. His eyes were entirely kind, and equally as gentle as his hold on my hand. "Now. What's wrong?" He questioned.

My face filled with color, and it took everything in me not to burst into tears and confess everything to him. Instead I worked to keep my face free of expression, and avoided the warm brown gaze I felt trying to catch mine. It was so hard for me now to keep things from him, and I was having a hard time keeping my emotions from showing. Absently I studied the laptop and ran my thumbnail idly over the side of it. A few functionless ridges had been applied to its design, only now proving useful in my attempt to distract myself, to help me think. I couldn't tell him the truth.

"I was just thinking of impossible things." I nudged one shoulder up in a listless shrug, holding up the half truth. "Things I should know better about." I added quietly. A pained smile pulled at one corner of my lips. It was not entirely successful in its efforts, for I was too upset with myself to really feel any form of humor, and I felt it quickly fall again.

Jareth leaned forward. "What do you mean?" The chair he sat in squeaked, making me wince. Just the reaction of the things around him seemed to mock me. The chair's squeak, the table's creak, and his mug of tea nearby. I was offended by them, angry at them, for further proving to me that Jareth was real. Making it harder for me to deny any kind of feelings I had for him. Feelings that I knew would endanger our relationship. I needed to push him away. I needed to push him away, and the thought was agonizing.

The timer on the oven began to beep, drawing my attention to it.

I took a shallow breath, and instead of replying, I came to my feet and left my closed laptop on the table. I got as far as the space behind my chair, when Jareth's hand-still around mine-followed, not letting go.

Surprised, I frowned at him, my heartbeat stuttering. "Let me go." I said quietly, my eyes meeting his own for a split second before looking away. There was a physical pain in my chest. Jareth had looked confused, even hurt. His lips were pulled down and his eyebrows had wrinkled the skin between them when they lifted.

I had hurt him.

The pain in my chest grew worse. He held so fast to my hand, it was hard to ignore. I wanted to squeeze his hand to convey I was fine, but I couldn't manage even that. Because in reality, I wasn't fine. I didn't want him to be hurting either, and a clean break seemed the only way to keep things from getting horribly awkward. I peered downward, focusing on our hands. With effort, I forced down the feelings building in my heart, forced them away until they only just boiled at the surface, leaving me feeling cold and empty.

"Let me go." I repeated with force, the cold in my chest entering my tone-and he did. Just as I finished speaking, Jareth released my hand. My eyes sought out his in surprise. I hadn't expected him to do it, but he'd done it, and with considerable care. His eyes were confused, frustrated, even a little sad. It made me realize then that it was true. I really had hurt him.

"I'm sorry." My heart lurched and the lump in my throat grew bigger in guilt. I bit my tongue, then offered a lousy excuse. "I think I'm just tired." I slipped past him, going toward the stove. The feel of his hand around mine lingered, and I clenched my fists at my sides, focusing on keeping my tears away. I had to stop myself from crying.

I grabbed some hot pads I'd gotten out earlier, and distractedly checked the cobbler. I didn't even register if the crust had browned properly. Turning off the timer and stove, I opened the door and reached in for the cobbler.

I was straightening back up when I heard Jareth's chair slide noisily over the cheap linoleum floor.

Startled, I turned around with the cobbler in hand to see him before me, and we collided, the peach cobbler dish flipping forward and dumping its contents onto Jareth's chest.

Everything happened very quickly, then.

Jareth shouted in pain, jumping back and pulling at his shirt to put distance between the heat and his skin.

"Oh my gosh!" I cried. "I'm so sorry!" I dropped the container into the sink, pads and all, and turned to help him.

He had managed to get his shirt unbuttoned half way before I reached him and helped him out of it, both of us avoiding stepping on the remains of the fallen cobbler on the floor between us.

I got one look at the burn and paled. It was already quite red. I herded Jareth to the kitchen bench, and retrieved a washcloth that I ran under the faucet in cool water, wringing it out before handing it to him. "Spread it over the burn and hold it there." I ordered, then moved to the first aid kit atop the refrigerator and pulled it down, taking it to the table.

On my way there, I noticed Jareth was standing again. He had removed the cloth as he stood. The burn had been bigger than I thought, going down almost to where his leggings began. He was now standing to keep the burn from bending, his face twisted in pain.

My heart ached and my stomach twisted nastily at the sight. Determined to set it right, I hurried over to him.

Firmly I set the kit on the table and opened it, rooting around until I found the container of lavender oil.

Jareth's nose twitched as I unscrewed the lid. "Lavender?" He questioned, perplexed.

I nodded, and turned to him with the lavender and a cotton pad in hand. I loaded the cotton pad heavily with oil and spoke at the same time. "It's the best thing I know of for burns." I referred next to the lavender. "It helps immensely with pain and heals quickly." The pad adequately doused, I turned to him and hesitated.

I realized belatedly that I hadn't asked him if I could help-I'd just assumed. I looked up at Jareth. "Is it ok if I-?"

"Yes!" Jareth snapped.

Quickly I began dabbing the lavender oil on his burn.

Jareth sucked in a breath, and his hands grabbed at my elbows suddenly, startling me, making me jump.

I looked up at his face in surprise, only to be sidetracked as I gazed in amazement.

He was entirely himself. The illusion of the movie's Goblin King was gone. Instead, his hair was a dark and warm chestnut color. It sported the same style he'd had it when it was blonde, though the bangs that framed his face were longer. No more mismatched, his warm chocolate brown eyes made my heart feel suddenly warm.

"Gently." He breathed, his face wrinkled in pain.

My face flooded with color. "Oh! Sorry! I think I'm just freaked out." I took a swift breath. "I'll be careful." I reassured him.

Jareth's grip on my arms softened until he released me, while I thought on his true appearance.

Guilt pricked at me as I continued carefully dabbing at the burn. I had been standing there, staring at him while he stood before me, injured. A part of me wondered at my reaction-it always seemed to happen the first instant of each visit, when I'd see how he truly looked. Like my brain had to reboot what I was seeing.

I blinked rapidly and stole a steadying breath, then glanced up to just barely see the golden flecks in his eyes as he gazed at me. His eyes flit down to the lavender pad in my hand. "It has a strong scent."

I followed his gaze, and continued tending to his burn. It was half way covered with the oil by now. "It does. But at least it's pleasant."

Jareth chuckled. "I'm not complaining."

The pendant he wore gleamed faintly in the light from the kitchen window, and it caught my attention briefly before I continued working. "I noticed you always wear your pendant. I assumed it's meant to show your status, but does it have another purpose?"

I felt Jareth's eyes on my face a moment before he spoke. "It is. But it also communicates with your ring, and acts as a charm of illusion."

My brow furrowed. "Illusion?"

He hummed positively before continuing. "Yes. It is meant to make me look human in the instance that I am unable to transform my appearance myself."

Once Jareth's burn was fully and completely covered with lavender oil, I replaced the lid and dropped the used pad in the garbage bin. I held up the lavender bottle. "You should take this home with you when you go, and apply it once a day."

The king offered a grateful nod, then spotted his peach cobbler stained shirt strewn on the ground by the offending dessert. "That's an unfortunate casualty." He observed dryly.

"Sorry again." I apologized, following his gaze. Stepping over to his shirt, I avoided the splatter pattern of cobbler and peach juice on the floor and picked it up. Lifting the shirt, I got a good look at the damage. "Most of it came off. Still…" I wiped off what cobbler remained. "I could clean it in the wash, if you want?" I suggested. "The peach might otherwise stain it."

"Leave it be." Jareth waved his hand dismissively.

I frowned at him. "But it's my fault. I should clean it." I countered.

He studied the shirt a moment more, then shrugged. "If you feel you must. I thank you for it."

In a few moments the washing machine was started, and I shut the folding closet door it and the dryer resided in.

With my back to him, Jareth spoke. "Before, you said you were thinking of impossible things." He prompted me.

My shoulders stiffened. I hadn't anticipated him remembering that-I had forgotten, myself.

Fidgeting with the hem of my shirt, I turned to the living room and deflected his reminder. "It was nothing." I added with a glance at him. "And you need a blanket to wrap up in."

But as I was passing Jareth, he moved suddenly. In a second, he took hold of me by my waist and lifted me up. He did it so quickly that the only reaction I could manage was an alarmed gasp.

My hands flew up to press on his shoulders for balance as I lurched forward. Our faces swayed just centimeters apart, and for an instant my nose brushed lightly against his, making my cheeks flare with heat.

Jareth sat me on the kitchen table before him, the first aid kit and lavender behind me. His hands remained snug on my waist once I was settled, and his elbows rested upon my legs near my knees. He stood between my legs with a frustrated scowl on his face and spoke. "No. Something is wrong and you're keeping it from me." He accused, the very real hurt in his eyes mingling with his frustration.

I was certain my eyes looked bug-like now in their largeness. To distract myself from the truthful accusation, I looked from his eyes down to the pendant against his chest. It shone dully in the kitchen light, not as radiant as it ought to be. Did his pendant reflect his emotions?

I wondered at this until his hands around my waist grew softer and caressed my sides to get my attention. My breath stuttered, and my face reddened terribly. I don't think he realized that it tickled. I reacted automatically, squirming a little and biting back a squeak. My knee lightly twitched against his side, but I was determined not to show that he'd affected me.

I didn't respond otherwise, but gazed mutely forward at his pendant.

He took in a slow breath, and then continued in a gentler tone. "Amelia, I have been honest with you. Trusted you to tell my story."

One of his hands lifted from my waist to tenderly rest upon my cheek. "Now it's time for you to trust me. Why are you so upset?" Jareth's voice was lower, kinder as he searched my face in concern.

I met his eyes, studying them, hoping to convey without words what I wanted. Who, I wanted. Eventually my gaze wandered down to his lips.

His lips parted, and his eyes widened in understanding.

In seeing this, my cheeks flushed and I allowed my gaze to trail lower to stare sadly at his pendant once again. My hands came away from his shoulders to play together between us, and I studied each digit as though it were terribly fascinating. I paused in my study to speak. "I can't say why, because what I want is too much to ask. I'm afraid…"

I stopped in discomfort before building enough courage to go on. "...I'm afraid that whatever I say will negatively affect our relationship, and losing you…" I trailed off, my lip trembling as my emotions boiled higher.

Frustrated with myself, I bit my lip to stop its trembling. Jareth was silent, and I dared not look up to gauge his response. I'd embarrassed myself enough, and seeing his expression might undo whatever resolve I had left to keep my emotions in check.

"That won't happen." Jareth's reassuring, certain voice halted my thoughts. His hand on my cheek shifted down and gently tilted my chin up to meet his eyes, his thumb caressing my chin. In hearing his words, I hesitated before letting my eyes rise to study his serious expression.

His eyes burned with another emotion; one which I was too uncertain to delve deeper into, in case I was wrong. Yet, I felt a glimmer of hope. "You don't know that." I replied.

Frustration returned to his eyes, and Jareth's hand moved with a glide up my face to rest against my cheek once more.

I stared with wide eyes as he leaned forward and his nose brushed mine. "Can we not want the same things?" He murmured, his words emphasized by his warm breath breezing over my lips.

I took in a breath, breathing him in, and Jareth remained silent.

Then ever so gently, his lips brushed mine in a caress, so lightly I almost thought I'd imagined it. My chest felt suddenly warm and light, and the tumultuous emotions within me burst free and were overwhelmed with a sudden, peaceful happiness.

My whole body relaxed as though every worry within me had faded, and my eyes closed with an unrealized tiredness. I leaned into him, returning the kiss, and the burden lifted fully, the floodgates that were entrapping my emotions opened.

I could breathe.

A split second passed, and I wondered if he'd experienced the same feeling. All I knew for sure, was that I wanted to throw my arms around him when I'd felt that wave of emotion-but I restrained myself when a thought occurred to me.

What if he didn't feel the same way?

My stomach sank. But it turned out I needn't have worried. For almost immediately after that first kiss, Jareth's thumb brushed my cheek, and our eyes met as we parted.

His lips came down a second time with more purpose, but no less tender. That same hand he'd placed on my cheek slipped back to tangle in my hair at the base of my head, making my breath catch.

Jareth's free arm moved caressingly around my waist to my back, pulling me closer until I was nearly flush against him. I sucked in a breath as we briefly broke apart, and finally I flung my arms around his neck, pulling him to me as I kissed him, pulling him nearer until we were truly flush together.

Time was irrelevant. Nothing seemed to matter anymore, except for the man in front of me. This, incredible, wonderful man. Once we separated, I pressed my forehead to his while we regained our breath. "I didn't know this is what you wanted." I said, and I straightened, opening my eyes.

"Neither did I." He began with a deep breath, and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear before he gave a husky chuckle and sobered as he next spoke. "But when you stood to leave, I felt my heart was leaving with you. I feared you leaving." He made a face, and at first I thought it was in disgust. Disgust at me, or at himself, or at the situation, and my heart ached dreadfully.

But then Jareth's eyes met mine with warmth, and I realized his face hadn't been conveying disgust. It had been conveying pain. He was in pain.

My heart ached painfully at the realization, and I moved a hand to his cheek and caressed it, trying to offer comfort. "Jareth..." I murmured, and his gentle gaze lowered back down to my lips and warmed.

My eyes closed when he again leaned down and swept up my lips in a passionate dance. That dance went on for some time, deepening, and my mind exploded with a million feelings. Eventually that dance changed and Jareth wove a feather light trail of kisses down onto my neck that left fire in its wake.

I opened my eyes as my hand on his cheek made its way down and came to rest upon his neck. He shivered at the feeling, and leaned further into me. I felt weak, yet empowered, and for an instant my eyes fluttered, then closed.

But as soon as they did, I remembered something.

Someone.

Andrew.

My eyes snapped open. Every inch of me went cold and I froze, guilt dropping thunderously into my gut. What was I doing? What was I thinking?! I sat up straight, moving my hand on Jareth's neck to his shoulder, while the other took hold of his hand still in my hair. "Jareth." I spoke, and he must have sensed the change in me.

Pressing one last, achingly loving kiss to my collar bone where he'd stopped, he lifted his head and gave me a perplexed look. I was silent for a moment, just processing my emotions and hating the words I knew I'd have to say to him. I shook my head. "We can't do this."

Jareth's questioning expression prevailed as he frowned. "Any particular reason?"

I grimaced. Not wanting to see the hurt in his eyes, I glanced away a moment to gather my courage before facing him fully. "Andrew."

At the mention of my boyfriend's name, Jareth's arm around my waist tightened protectively. His lips curved further down into a scowl, his tone dangerous. "...And?"

I made a face. "And this is wrong. I can't be with you when I'm dating Andrew. It's not right." Guilt tugged at my stomach again even as I spoke the words. "I'm sorry."

Jareth's arm loosened from around my waist and came away entirely, and he took one stiff, full step back, his arms at his sides as he frowned at me. There was hurt and anger, and confusion in his gaze.

The guilt I'd felt before about Andrew was dwarfed by the guilt I felt in seeing Jareth's expression, and realizing just how stupid I had been in all of this. I should have broken up with Andrew sooner-then this wouldn't be an issue. We could be happy. But my clueless, uncertain nature, over complicated something that should have been simple.

I'd ruined something, before it had even the chance to begin.

I wanted to break up with Andrew, I needed to do it. And more than anything I needed Jareth to know without an ounce of uncertainty, that I loved him.

I felt the guilt lifting a little in coming to my decision, but before I could tell him my thoughts, a cold breeze swept through the kitchen, stopping me.

"What-in hell is going on here?!" Andrew's voice, oddly shrill and certainly furious, boomed from the living room. The sudden noise made me jump, and Jareth whirled to face my boyfriend, putting himself partially in front of me at the perceived threat.

"Andrew!" I half reproved him, my heart thumping rapidly at the scare. Jareth grimaced in pain from the sharp movement when he'd turned to put himself between me and Andrew.

Realizing I was still attop the table, I moved carefully down and fully faced my boyfriend.

"You're frightening her." Jareth's words were heavy with warning, threatening Andrew's forceful removal if needed.

Andrew glowered at Jareth, his eyes flashing with incredulous fury. "She wouldn't be scared at all-if she hadn't just been feeling you up!"

My face turned scarlet, and my earlier guilt about Andrew returned full force at his reaction.

Until I realized something.

Andrew had never actually seen me touch Jareth-in truth, he had no idea what was happening here-which meant he would have reacted this same way, even if I hadn't kissed Jareth. If nothing at all had truly happened, Andrew would have behaved the same.

My guilt lifted considerably as foreboding turned my stomach. No matter the circumstances, would his reactions always be like this?

Was this what living with Andrew would be like?

I felt the blood draining from my cheeks.

If that was the case-if marriage to Andrew meant more of these reactions to misunderstandings-then I definitely did not want to marry him.

Andrew demanded. "What is he doing here?"

"Jareth asked for my help in writing a book." I explained, my rude awakening to a future Andrew, and my decision to break up with him, had helped steady me.

Andrew looked Jareth's toned-and currently red-torso over with contempt. "And he needs to be half-naked for that? What kind of book are you two writing?"

I frowned, then shook my head side to side in exasperation. "I was making a cobbler, and accidentally ran into him with it, and it spilled on his shirt." I gestured at the closet where the washer was rumbling. "It's in the wash."

I pointed out Jareth's blotchy red burn. "It would be a bad idea for him to put anything on right now, anyway. It'd trap the heat in and make the burn worse."

Andrew's face gained a darker color and he marched toward me and Jareth with a furious growl. "I don't care if it gets worse-what I care about is that he gets out!"

I gaped at Andrew. He really didn't care that someone was hurt?

Jareth frowned at the both of us. "If my presence is causing you distress, I will leave..." Jareth suggested, but I saw the look in his eyes. It was a look that said he would be fine with Andrew being the one who left. Jareth didn't actually want to leave-and likely wouldn't-not with how Andrew was behaving. Even so, he was giving me the choice.

Seeing his expression, I understood, and his reassuring presence gave me immense comfort.

At Jareth's words, however, Andrew spoke in an angry rush. "Yes. Get out."

My head snapped round to Andrew and I shot him an angry, reproving frown, before I faced Jareth again. My expression eased, but I shook my head negatively at the goblin king and spoke with an authoritative firmness. "No. You're staying. Lavender oil is the best thing for you right now. You need to stay put to let it do its work on that burn."

I seemed to have surprised him a little, for his eyebrows went up briefly, before they fell again and he smiled slightly. There was a look of pride at me standing up for myself, as well as something else in his eyes, that made my heart feel suddenly warm.

Andrew took a few steps further into the kitchen, nearer to me. The ring on my finger grew warm the closer Andrew got, and I folded my arms to hide the ring behind my right arm.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jareth notice my defensive posture, and he moved closer to me. I could feel the warmth coming from his arm when it spanned the short distance between us to brush mine.

I spoke quickly to quell Andrew's anger. "You really don't care that an injured man could get worse?"

Andrew scowled, stopping before me. "That's not my concern!" Andrew stabbed a finger at Jareth. "My concern is that there's a man standing shirtless in your home!"

I glared back. "I already explained the situation. I was going to have him wrap himself up in a blanket-I can't believe you'd think I'd allow him to go around half naked!" I raised my eyebrows in disbelief at Andrew.

Andrew's expression darkened further and the ring grew warmer still.

I winced and moved it away from my arm.

Andrew spoke through his teeth. "Whatever. He can go to an urgent care. You don't have to treat him."

My tone took on an almost teacher quality, impatience lacing it. I was getting tired of Andrew's bullheadedness. "It's already done." With that reminder, I turned to close the first aid kit, getting it ready to put it back on top of the fridge.

But Andrew moved, quicker than I'd ever seen him move, as he reached out and took hold of my hand.

I froze, and out of Andrew's line of sight, I saw Jareth's hair bristle and his eyes widen and then narrow in his outrage at Andrew.

'Remove yourself, or I will!' Plain as day, it was almost as if Jareth had spoken the words.

My eyes widened at him, then dropped to his pendant. But my gaze was pulled back to Andrew as he interrupted. "Amelia-don't do this. Just send him away."

Pursing my lips, I tried to pull my hand free of his to no avail. "I can handle myself."

He made a face, though his grip on my hand had eased. "It's not you I'm worried about." He groused, with a pointed look at Jareth.

The goblin king came to his full height. "She has nothing to fear from me. I will not harm her." The way Jareth said it, he made it sound like Andrew would.

It was a concern I had not considered a possibility until today.

Andrew looked about to say something, and I cleared my throat loudly to stop any further argument.

Taking my hand back from him, I shut and picked up the first aid kit from off of the table. Moving to the refrigerator, I set it on top and spoke to Andrew as I returned. "I'm not sending him away."

Andrew fell utterly silent, his lips twisting in anger. "Fine." He took a quick breath, and glared hard at me. "In that case, I think we need a break." That said, he glanced between me and Jareth, then turned and left the house. He got as far as the sidewalk when I broke free from my stupor.

"Break!" I bristled, and marched after Andrew with thunderous frustration.

At the door I called to him, that frustration lacing my tone. "Andrew!" He slowed to a stop, and grudgingly turned to face me as I moved to catch up with him.

"What?" He waspishly snapped.

I stopped short, taking in his tone. It brought again to the forefront of my mind, the earlier revelation of a future Andrew. "I wasn't cheating on you. But you are right about something." I added, and Andrew's bewildered expression answered me. I went on. "We do need a break. But I want a permanent one. I can't marry you."

Andrew's face reddened furiously. "You're-You're serious?" He hissed.

I nodded firmly. "Yes. I'm sorry."

Silence prevailed as Andrew stared at me for a moment, and the very air around us seemed to grow colder.

He took a step forward, toward me, and a horrible, dark feeling hit me. "I see." His voice fell.

He took another step. "How unfortunate." It was only a murmur, but there seemed a terrible threat in it, and suddenly the 'no feeling' was coming off of Andrew as though he had bathed in it.

I went cold with fear, and instinctively moved backwards, repelled by the feeling.

The look he gave me-it was as though he were considering something.

Something terrible.

I was wishing I hadn't pursued him. But if I hadn't, I might not have seen this side of him. Regardless, I still wished very much for the comfort of my home and Jareth's reassuring presence.

The dark eyes staring me down noticed the direction I was headed, and they flit up to the kitchen window. Andrew straightened slowly, his expression carefully turning neutral. "I...understand." His eyes landed once more on me, and immediately I took another two, careful, steps backwards.

"Goodbye, Amelia." Andrew gave me one last hard look, then turned and strode to his car.

I retreated up my stairs with my eyes on him as he entered his vehicle, and drove out of sight, and I then went back inside.

Closing and locking the door, I felt the warmth of the house embracing me, and exhaled a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.

I turned back and started toward the kitchen, back toward Jareth. "I'm sorry…" I trailed off as the kitchen came into full view.

Jareth was gone.

I cast my gaze around, and noticed the laundry closet was slightly opened. My heart gave a sharp twinge as I opened it fully.

The washer was stopped, and Jareth's shirt was gone.

Had he left, thinking I had chosen Andrew?

I felt sick at the thought.

I recalled the ring in that moment, and hope returned to my heart. Lifting my hand, I lowered my gaze to it, and it flickered inquisitively back at me. My heart thumped in a war of hope and anguish. "Can you-Can you ask Jareth to come here, please? I need to apologize-I need to tell him something important."

The ring acknowledged my request, and its light faded.

I didn't move from where I stood as I waited.

The hope I had felt before, began little by little to shrink away, the longer I waited for him. At length it was an answer, and not Jareth, that came.

The ring's light shone in such a way that it seemed wary. It gave an answer to my request.

Jareth wasn't coming.

I blinked, and tears stumbled down my cheeks. Surprised by them, I sat up a little straighter and the tears tumbled from my face to the floor as I reached up to touch my face. I stared down at the twin droplets in stunned silence.

I did make a mistake. I should have broken up with Andrew long ago. I shouldn't have rejected Jareth.

I loved him.

I had for some time; and every moment I spent with him, made it clearer and clearer for me now that I had never really loved Andrew-I had only been settling for him.

Whenever Andrew spoke of a future for us, I couldn't imagine it. I realized now that a part of me didn't want to imagine it. I didn't want to imagine a life with Andrew; because I didn't want to marry him. I couldn't.

The ring seemed to have nothing more to convey, and its light dimmed to a faint glimmer.

My chest felt hollow.

New tears began to form, my throat constricting, and I quickly cleared my throat, pushing the palm of my hand against my chest briefly and taking a steady breath.

Still absently rubbing the spot, I made my way to the cobbler mess on the floor, picking up a dish rag and the garbage can as my earlier tears began to make their way down my face in earnest.

It was my fault-all of it. I had been so blind.

Worse than anything, I had hurt Jareth.

I knelt down numbly before the mess, and started at the outside edges, working my way to the center. It soon began to be too hot to handle, and I quickly retracted my hand, setting the rag down beside it and sitting clumsily back against the counter.

Jareth and I could have had a chance-but now?

It was all ruined.

The pain in my chest increased.

Pulling my knees up, I folded my arms over them and put my head down to let my tears fall, when a dreadful thought came to mind.

A single, heartbreaking thought.

'Jareth will never come back.'

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please read and review!


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: I hope you guys like this chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own it. Carry on!

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A Writer Required

Chapter Twenty-Six

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To say that Marcus was happy I was no longer dating Andrew, would be a gross understatement.

He was thrilled.

Over the moon thrilled, actually.

I kept the details of the matter to myself, considering how much Andrew had truly frightened me. I didn't want Marcus to know. Andrew had shown me his true colors that day-and I didn't want Marcus anywhere near him-so I kept my concerns to myself.

Marcus likewise kept his enthusiasm to a minimum when around me, when he could manage to contain himself. But several times he repeated that I was better off without 'that tool', and oddly, seemed relieved Andrew was out of my life. I didn't push him on why, exactly, he felt that way. I assumed it was because Marcus had never liked him.

I wished I had trusted his instinct sooner.

But more than these thoughts of Andrew, I thought of Jareth. I was devastated by his refusal to return. My chest felt heavy with the loss the moment I realized he wasn't coming back. I had not seen him in a week, but it felt infinitely longer.

I had not been myself at work to the point that even my clients noticed, and Marcus frequently asked as we'd leave work, if I was alright.

Baard was the only one who came with notes now. He tried to strike up conversation with me, but I felt too upset to manage much in the way of replies.

The elf once asked if he could take some baked treat back with him-but the way he said it, made me think it wasn't really for him.

Tears pricked at my eyes at the thought of Jareth.

"I don't have anything homemade." I told him, placing a plastic container of muffins on the counter.

"Oh." His expression fell acutely from his hopeful smile. "I had thought…"

I quietly spoke over him. "I know." I quietly closed the cupboard that had housed the muffins, and retrieved a ziplock bag. "I haven't been making a lot of anything lately." I paused as I moved to pick up a muffin, thinking. I didn't really want the muffins, but Jareth in the past had shown he liked them.

That thought in mind, and with a trembling bottom lip, I closed the box again, putting away the ziplock bag. He could have the whole box.

"My Lady?" Baard timidly questioned in seeing this.

My head ached when he spoke, and I breathed deeply in and out through my nose to ease it, and to keep my lip from trembling again. I turned my focus from the pain, to instead make sure the plastic container full of muffins was sealed properly.

Turning to Baard, I kept my bottom lip firmly between my teeth, ignoring how my vision had blurred.

I could sense the alarm from Baard, but I offered him the container in place of an explanation. I told him. "You can take all of them." My voice wavered as I spoke quickly. "Thanks, Baard."

He nodded mutely, and I robotically turned and started cleaning the already clean stove top. It was not until Baard left that I let myself cry.

The jolt of our work van hitting a speed bump jogged me from my memories, and tears slipped down my cheeks. I had been so lost in my thoughts, I hadn't realized I'd started crying.

Worried Marcus or the clients had seen, I glanced up and caught Marcus's gaze in the rearview mirror. He frowned worriedly at me.

In seeing this, I ducked my head, swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat, and wiped away my tears. I had to keep my personal and work lives separate, and this recent situation between Jareth and myself had made that rule difficult to maintain when I was so often near tears.

"Everyone doing ok?" Marcus called to the van occupants as a whole, looking at each of us in turn and ending on me.

Our clients responded positively-if a little confusedly-and I nodded.

I took a quick, steady breath, and returned all of my attention to the current moment.

I couldn't really talk to Marcus about my ended relationship, and the new relationship I almost had and then ruined, within earshot of our clients.

My work badge around my neck swayed as I, Marcus, and our two clients Dom, and Tailor, turned up the main road leading to the city's only superstore. I could see from here that it was packed; and I wondered if we shouldn't have gone somewhere else for an activity. Our clients enjoyed window shopping, and it was good for them to get out into the community-but I worried it would be too much for them.

I made a face in seeing all the people. "It's pretty busy right now. Should we go somewhere that's a bit quieter?" I asked Marcus, when we were coming up on the turn leading into the crowded parking lot. I could see the cars lined up, looking for a parking spot, and I cringed.

I hadn't really been worried about the heavy vehicular traffic. In truth, I was worried that the crowds and excess noise would upset our clients. I couldn't say as much in front of them; it would only create the start of a behavior that wouldn't have been there otherwise. It was a given to keep an extra eye on them, in case they became too stressed by their surroundings.

We entered the parking lot, and I felt my anxiety increase. Marcus failed to catch my terrible attempt at a hint, though I wasn't really surprised. I knew Dom and Tailor wanted to go on an outing, and I didn't want to take that away from them. They'd been good all day-they deserved an activity.

Marcus kept his attention on the parking lot as he reassured me, "It'll be ok. They have parking on the side we can use." and as he pulled the van round the corner of the building, I realized he was right.

This second parking lot was almost bigger than the main one, and one third of the way full. I'd parked here myself in the past-I was surprised I'd forgotten about it. "Oh, right." I replied sheepishly. "I forgot they even had one over here."

We stayed at the store for about an hour, just browsing the different departments. Dom and Tailor did exceptionally well, and I was immensely proud of them. We were looking through the men's coat section of the store, when Marcus's client, Dom, said something to him.

I heard Dom speak, but because of the noise from a passing family, I missed what he had said. His tone was odd, though, like he was anxious.

Marcus didn't respond at first, but with my back to him, I heard his voice quiet as he turned from me. His response was too muted for me to hear, but I could feel a sudden tension building in the air around him, and I at once became more alert. Especially when Dom added. "...I wasn't sure at first, but I think I saw those two watching us earlier..."

I felt abruptly cold.

There were people watching us?

My thoughts went back to my past stalker turned attacker, and I mentally shook off the memories.

It was unlikely they were here to watch me, I reasoned. Yet, an awful feeling of dread settled over me. I knew they were here for me.

Marcus's voice snapped me out of my thoughts when he replied, and this time I heard him ask Dom where they were. Dom must have pointed, for Marcus responded to verify. "Those guys by the roast chicken stand?"

My client, Tailor, spoke to me at that moment, but I still heard Dom's answer of, "Yeah…" before he was drowned out by Tailor.

"Oh! I like this color, Amelia!" He pointed out a lovely blue coat from the women's coat department next to us. I stepped slowly over to the coat stand, my peripherals searching for the men Marcus had mentioned.

I could see two figures standing down the main aisle from us, near the heated rotisserie chicken stand and self-checkout lanes. I couldn't tell much more than that, other than their clothes were dark in color.

Picking the coat up by its hanger, I lifted it before myself and Tailor, pretending to admire it. "You're right! It is a lovely color!" I agreed cheerfully with a nod. It really was a beautiful coat-but I wasn't really focused on it.

While we admired the coat, I trailed my eyes from the top of its collar, down the arm to the bottom of the coat, going slowly down along the side and then back up. I caught a glimpse of the men Marcus spoke of and I paled.

Dom was right. They were watching us.

More specifically, they were watching me.

I would normally have noted and then dismissed them, thinking they were looking at us as a group or looking at the coats. But with where I was standing-between my client and Marcus who was further away-I realized that their eyes were fixed solely, on me. This theory was proven true when I took a step to the side, and their eyes followed me. A terrible shiver went down my spine. I forced a smile at Tailor as I put the coat back.

"I think it would look nice on you." Tailor complimented with blunt honesty, looking a little disappointed that I'd put it back. He must have expected me to buy it after I had shown interest in it.

He pointed at my eyes. "The color is the same as your eyes." My cheeks flushed, showing how disarmed I was by the compliment. He went on before I could respond, realizing it was unlikely I would purchase the coat. "Maybe next time you come in, you could buy it?"

I shrugged stiffly and nodded positively at his suggestion. "Maybe."

Behind me I heard Marcus's footsteps and I half turned toward him when he spoke. His expression was serious. "Amelia, do you know those two guys by the roast chicken stand?" He tilted his head the tiniest amount toward them without actually looking.

Having heard Marcus and Dom talking earlier, I didn't bother following his gesture with my eyes, now. I didn't want to tip them off if they really were watching me.

I shook my head negatively. "No."

His eyebrows fell when I didn't look, and I explained myself before he could say anything. "I heard you and Dom talking before. I got a brief glance at them when I was with Tailor. I don't know who they are, but I don't think we should stay here much longer to find out." I could have bitten my tongue at how bluntly I'd spoken. So much for discretion!

Marcus's eyebrows climbed steadily higher up his forehead the more I spoke, and his mouth opened soundlessly. Without him saying so, I could tell that he was impressed. Impressed, and certainly surprised. "Well, shit." He deadpanned. "You're on top of things, aren't you?"

I thought at first he was being sarcastic or teasing me, but there was neither a trace of meanness, nor humor in his eyes. He meant what he'd said.

Feeling uncomfortable with the comment, I cast my gaze over to Tailor, who was completely unaware of anything but the green coat he was now focused on. I watched him a moment longer, then brought part of my attention back to Marcus, my eyes still on Tailor.

"We should go."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Marcus hesitate, then turn to Dom behind him. Marcus's client was muttering anxiously about the two men. I looked over at Marcus in time to see his lips tug down in a serious scowl.

He reassured Dom, who relaxed some.

Without missing a beat, Marcus clasped his hands together once and spoke. "Right. Time for us to go, guys." Marcus declared calmly, just loud enough for our group to hear. He had me lead the way with Tailor and Dom to my right and left, while he kept just behind me.

I realized when he did, that he'd set it up that way on purpose. Dom and Tailor were protective because they liked me, and Marcus would never let anything happen to me. The way Marcus had subtly set us up, made it so that I was protected on almost every side. I didn't say anything about it, though I was able at one point to cast him a look of anxious gratitude over my shoulder. He just pressed his lips thinly together, clearly wary of the situation, and tipped his head forward to tell me without a word to continue walking.

We returned to the van without trouble, but didn't waste time in getting in and leaving. We soon arrived at the large group house where our clients lived. Once they had gone to their rooms for the night, Marcus approached me in the hallway.

He brushed a hand over his mouth to aid in keeping his voice down as he stepped past me. "Amelia, can I talk to you for a second?"

My eyebrows twitched down and together in confusion, but I nodded just the same. "Sure."

We stepped further down the hall, and Marcus pulled my attention to him as he spoke with urgency. "Did you know those guys-the ones at the store that were watching us?" He asked.

I shook my head negatively and frowned in confusion. Hadn't we already talked about this? "No, I don't know who they are. Didn't we already talk about this?" I spoke my thought aloud as I asked with some mild impatience. Those men had made me uncomfortable, and I didn't really want to bring them back up.

Marcus gave me a strange look that he followed up with a frown. "I know we did. The only reason I'm mentioning them again is because both Dom and I noticed that they were looking at you."

My breath stilled in my chest. I studied his eyes-I suppose I was hoping to see that he was somehow teasing me-but there was only seriousness and worry in his brown eyes. I looked down the hall toward Dom's bedroom door. He was likely fast asleep by now, completely unaware of our conversation. "I don't know them." I repeated with resignation, bringing my eyes back to Marcus's.

"I've been being followed lately, though."

Marcus's eyes widened. "What?! Why haven't you said anything?" He angrily demanded.

I scowled at him and quietly snapped back. "Because the only people I could tell could either get hurt, or they might do something drastic in retaliation!" I hissed and shook my head firmly. "If I don't say anything, they'll be safe."

Marcus gaped at me in disbelief. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" He sputtered.

His blunt reply made me scowl, but Marcus rubbed at his eyes. "Shit-How could you be this stupid? You can't protect someone by hiding something like this. You're more likely to keep them safe by being honest!"

"What's up?" Brian interrupted as he was walking down the hall towards us.

I opened my mouth to make an excuse when Marcus butted in before I could speak. "Amelia's been being stalked by some creeps, and only now just told someone. There were two guys at the store that were following her."

I glared in indignation at Marcus, but my eyes returned to Brian when he spoke. Shock had fallen over his features, and it was promptly overthrown by anger. Thunder was heavy in his tone, and his eyes met mine. "Is this true?"

Marcus gave me such a stern look that I nodded my head in a hurry.

"Yes. There was a different man that was following me, and a little while later he broke into my house. I chased him off with my baseball bat. I went to Andrew's house after to stay the night until my door could be fixed." I found myself spouting the truth to them without even meaning to, and then shut my mouth firmly in surprise at myself, my cheeks feeling hot.

Marcus's eyes blazed at this new information and Brian's jaw dropped. "When did this happen?" Marcus demanded.

I avoided looking at them, focusing on the hall closet across from me. "...A month or so ago. I thought I'd chased him off for good-but I guess he found somebody else to follow me."

When I dared to look at Marcus, he appeared as though he might just be having an aneurysm.

A heavy silence filled the space between us, and I bit the tip of my tongue behind my teeth, waiting. At last Marcus spoke quietly.

"Give me your car keys."

I stared at him. My car keys? "Why?"

"Don't argue." He retorted.

While I fished my keys out of my pocket, Marcus looked to Brian. "Take Amelia's keys and go heat up both of your cars."

Brian passed a look between us, accepting my keys from me, then disappeared out the back door. He knew Marcus well enough to know not to argue.

Once Brian was gone, Marcus swiped a hand over his mouth-a sign I'd grown to know meant that he was angry or frustrated and trying hard not to let it show.

I continued to bite my tongue, waiting for his reproval. I felt like a small child being scolded, and I fisted my hands at my sides. When he didn't immediately speak, my hands loosened enough to play with the hem of my blouse. I felt like such an idiot-I should have told someone sooner.

Finally Marcus took a breath, just standing there with his hand over his mouth, then at last he put it down. "No more secrets. Don't hide stuff like this from me or any of the other staff. Promise me."

I hesitated, and his eyes pierced mine like a pair of furious darts.

I replied before I could stop myself. "I promise."

"Good." Marcus exhaled slowly in relief. "Damn it, I need a vacation."

I gave a slight, awkward half-laugh in agreement, but it died out when he glowered at me before waving his hand at Brian when he came in. "Thanks, man." Brian returned the wave and went back to work.

Speaking quieter, Marcus pointed a finger at me. "And you stop being stupid."

Marcus kept a close eye on me until our shift ended, and once the next group of staff arrived, he announced that ours could leave. He held me back as the others began hurrying out. "You wait for me. You're not going out there alone." Gesturing at the front desk, he told me. "Go sit and check the day's paperwork while I update the next shift."

I did as he said, grateful to him for looking out for me, and a little while later he returned and told me to get my things.

Everyone else by now was gone when Marcus and I eventually left. My car was older and usually took a while to defrost, but thanks to Marcus and Brian, all but a tiny strip of frost was gone from my car windows.

Letting out a quiet breath, I opened the passenger door to put my bag on the seat, and grabbed the window scraper. I was about to scrape off the rest of the frost on my car windows, when I noticed that Marcus had yet to start his own car.

It was completely covered in ice.

I got a glimpse of Marcus's dismayed face when he saw it. He was already so tired. Being in charge here was incredibly stressful-I knew, because I'd been in Marcus's position a few times before on his days off-and I knew if I were in his shoes right now, a little help sent my way would mean a lot.

Leaving my car, I came over to his as he was starting it. "Ok if I help a bit?" I called over the rattle of his old jeep.

The relief on his face was answer enough, and he gave a nod. We immediately set to work.

We were half way done when movement and a rustle in the untamed field by the parking lot near us made me freeze.

Was someone out there? Could it be those men that had been following me?

The nearly five foot long yellow grass rustled again not six feet from where I was, and I opened my mouth to angrily tell whoever it was to come out, when from out of the grass sprang a small deer.

It dashed away from us towards the nearby hills, crashing through the field and vanishing into the thin pine forest at the hill's base. It must have been spooked when I came nearer to its hiding place by Marcus's car.

I exhaled in relief and Marcus peered after it. There was something about his expression that made me wary. Like he was seeing something I wasn't. But when he saw my face, he turned back to the icy car with a joke, to ease the tension away. "At least it wasn't a lion."

I snorted, rolling my eyes, and continued to work on the windows.

Marcus went on in the same tone. "Or a tiger." He pretended to growl.

I laughed lightly, and moving around to the back window, I replied with a grin. "Or a bear?"

From the other side of the car out of sight, Marcus chuckled. "Oh, my!"

I heard his footsteps coming up behind me, just as I finished the window and lowered my arms. Triumphant, I turned to him. "It's all finished on this side-"

A hand clamped down over my mouth, and another wrapped around my waist, trapping my arms against my sides. It took me less than a second to realize that it wasn't Marcus behind me at all. Marcus was tall-nearly two heads taller than myself.

The man who had a hold of me, was barely half a head taller than I was, and he had a strong, strange spicy scent, that wafted around us.

I lashed out to stomp on his feet with the heels of my own tennis shoes.

His gruff voice grunted and growled, holding me tighter until it turned painful, and he pulled my head back sharply against his shoulder.

"Stop struggle, or I kill you!" He hissed in broken english. He had a thick accent that sounded distinctly Arabic-and yet somehow different even from that. Whatever his country-or world-of origin, he was quite clearly giving me an angry warning.

Suddenly the ring on my finger grew warm, and I felt little sparks of electricity tickle up my arm and down my fingertips. I tried to move my arm enough to reach up and grab his arm around my waist, but he held my arms too tightly for me to do it.

I tried to shake free instead, and my muffled scream still made enough sound for the nearby Marcus to hear it. I heard Marcus before I saw him.

"HEY! LET HER GO!" He shouted.

The man holding me spun around, half lifting me to do so, and stopped so that I was between him and Marcus.

My coworker came forward to help me, but the man pulled me backward. From the other side of the car, the second man we'd seen at the store came round from behind us to stop Marcus, and I saw a knife glint in his hand.

In an instant I was consumed by a fierce, protective rage. He was going to hurt Marcus!

'The Hell, he is!' I thought furiously. Marcus was like family, and no one hurts my family.

As the stranger came abreast of me I jumped, swinging my legs up to kick the other man's hip. He fell against the side of Marcus's car, setting off its alarm. The combination of the sudden screeching sound and his fall, resulted in him dropping the knife.

Marcus kicked the weapon out of reach beneath the car, shoving the man backwards so he fell onto his back, away from everyone else. The man "oomph!"ed and groaned, laying on the asphalt, and Marcus then turned to help me.

But while Marcus had been dispatching his attacker, I was busy dispatching my own with the help of my ring.

When his attacker had stumbled against the car, setting off its alarm, the loud sound and flashing lights also startled the man holding me, giving me the perfect opening when his arm around my waist loosened. I tore one of my arms out of his hold to reach up and grab his hand-in particular, his thumb-where it was still pressed into my cheek, and I pulled the digit back as hard as I could.

He shouted and released me fully, moving away out of instinct and trying to move his hand at a better angle to avoid the continuation of his pain. With a growl he reached his other hand out to me, and I pulled harder on his thumb. He went down on his knees as a result, trying in vain to ease the pain.

Rendering him mostly incapacitated, my other fist-the fingers of which now filled with the electric power of the ring-came flying forward, and met with his face.

I felt the transference of the electricity from my fist to his skull, which shot down his body in an instant.

I quickly released his thumb as he was thrown backward with a yell.

Marcus stopped short when he turned to me, gaping at me and eyeing my assailant, "What the-Who taught you to fight?" he questioned, incredulous. "I'm grateful to them, but jeez!"

"A friend taught me." I replied swiftly, the ring already beginning to electrify my hand again, this time a little slower. Based on how much my attacker had been thrown back, it must have used quite a lot that first time.

I retrieved my phone to call the police. I understood his need to question me, but we had more important things to worry about.

Like how Marcus's assailant had begun to stir and had quietly gotten to his feet. He lunged for Marcus, a pale yellow light around his hand.

Furious, I moved forward swiftly and punched him in the face with my electrified fist.

Marcus spun round upon realizing there was still more fighting to do, and when I pulled back, he kicked the man in the chest, effectively knocking him backward.

"Maybe let's focus on these guys!" I snapped as my attacker ran at me. I shoved my phone back into my pocket and swung my long window scraper out like a sword. The ring was still recharging for another electric blow. I had to keep the bad guy at bay until it could be ready.

The man snarled and reached forward with faintly glowing hands.

With a swing of the scraper, I smacked both of his hands away, and swung it back towards his head, hitting him soundly on his right temple, disorientating him.

The ring surged with sudden power, and I threw my fist forward and hit him in the chest. The man was thrown back once again, but this time, he did not get up.

My coworker gaped at me, then sent me a bewildered look. "Which friend?!" He demanded.

His reaction made me wonder if he wasn't thinking of Sarah. I went red in the face, pointedly not looking at him by focusing on his attacker. "Can we maybe discuss this later?!"

Marcus swung his scraper at the man, and used the end of it to hit him in the face, pushing the man away.

I heard Marcus's stern bark. "Turnip!"

"Goober!" I returned in the same tone, though it wasn't nearly as powerful as his. I was too busy internally panicking.

Marcus was in no way in a teasing mood, but his question led to an awkward answer. One I couldn't give completely and honestly.

The man before Marcus dodged his oncoming blow, and knocked my friend back against his car.

Stumbling, Marcus held up his hands to defend himself when the man came at him.

I intervened with my scraper, stopping him short, and punched him in the gut, the ring aiding in throwing him back.

He fell to the ground near the other man with a groan.

Seeing he was down, I looked to Marcus. "Are you ok?"

Marcus offered a nod, looking better than he had. "They have sledge hammers for hands."

"Hold on." I told him when he tried to speak again. "You should rest a minute."

He shook his head. "I'm fine, he just dazed me a moment is all."

I studied him uncertainly, but he seemed to be alright. "Ok. I'm going to call the police." I pulled my phone from my pocket and raised it to my ear, muttering. "Stars Above, this has been a crappy day..."

Marcus fell abruptly silent, and when I looked at him, he was staring at me with an entirely different expression.

"What?" I questioned, when a voice on the other end of the line spoke. I turned away from him a little to reply to the dispatcher. "My coworker and I have just been attacked." I gave the woman our address and began to explain the situation, and she said they would send a couple units out to us. I thanked her, and we ended the call.

A scuffling from our assailants sounded, and I turned in time to see one pulling the other to his feet. They ran as fast as they could across the snowy lawn towards the street.

"HEY!" Marcus shouted, and told them to stop.

Of course they didn't, and he bolted after them.

I followed a few steps, when Marcus glanced back and pointed at my feet angrily. "STAY." I stopped short out of surprise, and scowled in frustration as he ran off. I moved just enough to be able to see him, then stopped. I wanted to be able to see him to make sure he'd be ok.

A familiar warmth on my hand drew my attention down to my ring. It glowed faintly, as though trying to be subtle, though the warmth was not as successful as the light. Mentally I thanked it for its help, and it gave back a comforting reassurance.

Then from the ring, I felt an odd tug in my chest, and lifted my gaze to the nearby forest, as though it were drawn by a magnet.

I felt a bit of hope. Had Jareth come?

I followed the ring's direction, walking toward the forest.

A fence placed along the far side of the parking lot, where the dumpster sat in view of the forest, caught my attention. In particular, the short figure wearing a cloak, standing in the shade of a massive pine tree, caught my attention.

My heart sank and twinged painfully.

It was Baard.

Jareth hadn't come.

I had assumed my ring was contacting Jareth's pendant. I bit my tongue. I was wrong. It was informing me of Baard's presence. I wondered how much he had seen.

It must not have been enough for him to think he needed to intervene. I eyed him thoughtfully, and he looked back at me patiently. Or maybe Jareth had been confident enough in my training, now, to recognize he might not need to worry? I didn't really believe it.

I reached Baard shortly, feeling my heart sink further and further down. "I'm alright."

"I know." Baard replied, and he turned his head away as though to study the landscape. "The ring was vigilant. It informed the king there was danger earlier when you were at the market."

My eyebrows raised. Jareth knew?

Baard went on. "The ring could sense those men were djinn, and it knew you would need aid, so it called to his majesty for further assistance. It helped you as you fought."

So Jareth knew, but refused to come.

I watched Baard a moment, feeling the pain in my heart distinctly. I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. "Why didn't Jareth come?"

The elf gestured to the field to his right, and when I looked, I stared in amazement.

Hundreds of camouflaged goblins stood or crouched among the grass, ready to attack.

My eyes teared up at the sight, thunderstruck. Jareth cared enough to send an army to help me. My heart sank as a thought came to my mind. He cared, but not enough to come himself. 'He must still think I'm with Andrew!' I realized.

Blinking back the tears, I cleared my throat and faced Baard fully. "Can you give a message to Jareth?" I asked.

Baard nodded that he would, and I went on. "Tell him I broke up with Andrew. I should have done it sooner. Tell him I'm sorry I hurt him." Baard's expression softened, and he nodded once again when a little goblin nearby spoke up.

"King busy, don't have much time for Lady no more." He shook his head.

His armored comrade beside him added. "King ain't got time for nuthin' cause he's announcin' his bride today."

"Bride?" I echoed, looking to Baard in bewildered question.

"His majesty prepares to announce his bride today, my lady." Baard explained.

I felt like I'd been dealt a mighty blow to the stomach. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. Jareth was getting married? How could that be? Then it hit me. I really had lost him.

Still struck by this news, I turned away from Baard stiffly to make my way to my car. It was true. I was merely a writing tool for him to use as he wished. My vision grew blurry, and vaguely in the back of my mind, I sensed it as the air behind me grew lighter to indicate that Baard and the army had left. Now the danger was over, they had no purpose there.

My blurred vision grew clearer as the cause fell down upon my cheeks, and I sucked in a shaky breath. Jareth was getting married. Had he been engaged all this time? Was that why he had wanted his story written? Was he merely using me?

Abruptly I stopped walking, and my jaw clenched. Wiping clear my tears, I glared at the black asphalt as I made a decision.

I would continue as I had before, before Jareth had come into my life. 'I was fine then, and I'd be fine now.' I told myself firmly, feeling the lie of it like a rock in my gut. 'I don't need him!' I told myself sharply, my glare hardening.

But then unbidden came the thoughts of how he had defended me, of how safe I felt with his arms around me-

'No!' I shook my head and angrily wiped away my tears. 'I'll continue training on my own. I'll find a dojo where I can keep working with weapons-maybe I'll learn some martial arts, too.' I thought, making a plan.

But the feeling in the pit of my stomach remained, and I bit my tongue in frustration. I would make myself stop thinking about Jareth.

Movement caught my attention, and I looked up to see Marcus jogging towards me from the street as two police cruisers entered the parking lot.

The officer driving the first vehicle leaned out of his window, speaking to me. "We got a call. Are you Amelia?" He questioned.

I approached him as he stopped the car. "Yeah, I'm Amelia. I made the call"

Marcus shouted to me, and I looked up as he threw himself into a flat out run, panic on his face. "Amelia, wati! Get back! You can't trust them-!"

The driver door on the cruiser opened, and the officer before me gestured swiftly at my left hand, where a block of solid ice formed around it.

I yelped as it pulled my hand down toward the ground, and the djinn officer moved to pull my arms behind my back. I kicked his knee with my foot, making him release me, and hit him on the head with the my ice covered hand.

The second fake officer meanwhile had emerged from the car, making a similar gesture with her hand past me towards where Baard and the goblins had been, and I heard distinct goblin voices shouting in alarm before their shouts were muffled to furious growling.

I spun round, alarmed. A few had stayed? I realized belatedly that, of course, Jareth would make a few stay behind to keep a close eye on me.

Two goblins were pushed together, bound invisibly back to back. Their large eyes glared fiercely out at the djinn as they struggled, their mouths pressed thin together in what was assumed to be a magical form of a gag.

The grass beyond the two moved, and I saw a third goblin running for an instant, before he vanished.

I prayed he would get away and get help.

The second djinn struck me in the gut, and the first shoved me down onto my knees and pulled my hands behind my back.

But I forgot about all of that when Marcus screamed.

Frantically I cast my gaze toward the sound, seeking him out.

The other two officers in the second police cruiser-also apparently djinn-had pinned Marcus down so he was unable to move, and both had a hand pressed down hard on his back.

Light flickered over him, sweeping up and swirling around the djinn, as though they were absorbing his very life.

He screamed again in pain as the light brightened, and the flickering intensified.

"GET OFF OF HIM!" I roared, trying to throw the djinn behind me off and get to my feet.

I got one foot up when the second djinn who had hit me, swept my foot out from under me easily and pulled a knife from her belt. Grabbing a fistful of my hair, she jerked my head back, exposing my neck.

She spoke loudly to the djinn hurting Marcus, and the light faded to a mild flickering as they turned to her. Once Marcus had fallen silent, she spoke directly to him. "You will bear witness to her death."

My heart pounded in panic, and my eyes met Marcus's once more.

He was still surrounded with light, but it was faint and swirling now. His eyes were furious and anguished at once, but they softened with tears and his jaw clenched with renewed anger as he met my eyes, and I could tell he knew.

He knew they were going to kill me.

I knew I was going to die.

The djinn woman moved, and I kept my eyes fixed on my friend as I quickly shouted. "I'm sorry, Marcus!"

The djinn woman stopped short, and for an instant I thought it was because I'd spoken, but then the air around us felt suddenly displaced, and a powerful gale of wind swept over us. She turned her attention away to something behind me.

Not a second later, thunderous roars and shrieks, and the rattle of armor filled the night air, and my eyes popped back open as the knife came away from me. The djinn holding it there dropped to the ground in a crouch, narrowly avoiding a green handled dagger that lodged itself firmly in the cruiser's side.

Baring her teeth, she charged at whomever had thrown it her way.

The djinn behind me shouted and went down, only to stagger back to his feet and attempt to defend himself as part of the horde of goblins swarmed him.

Thoroughly dazed, I blinked rapidly and got to my feet as the goblin army moved like an angry wave of hornets over the parking lot.

Remembering Marcus, my eyes searched him out, and I gaped when I spotted the four foot tall Baard using magic to throw my coworker clear of the parking lot and out of the way of the wave of goblins.

Marcus landed among the tall grass, no longer flickering with light, and his descent was noticeably slower and his landing gentler, making me wonder if Baard had also used magic to catch him.

A hand grabbed my elbow, and I jerked away in alarm, lifting a hand to defend myself, only to stop when I saw it was a goblin. "Lady! This way!"

It pulled me over to my car, and Baard met us there. Without a word, the goblin handed me off dutifully to the elf, saluted, then ran shrieking back into the fray.

Baard pushed me into the safety of the car. "Get something to write with!" He told me, pushing the door closed and smacking the car with the butt of his fist, making the locks snap down into place.

"Write?" I gaped at him. "Write what?!" I sputtered. Shaking my head, I shouted back to be heard, my anger flaring. "I don't think writing a biography is a particularly good idea at the moment!"

He winced and chuckled, and I realized he must be able to hear me fine. The elf replied. "You are a writer-the king chose you for a reason!" He stopped speaking to turn to fight off a djinn.

Concerned for him and furious at this absurd conversation at such a dangerous time, I shouted. "What?!"

Baard shoved the djinn away and turned his head to shout back at me. "Your magic! Write us a way home!"

"But…" I breathed, bewildered, and shook my head side to side. "I'm only a human!"

Baard was pushed away from the car before he could reply, and he was swept away among the goblins.

Humans didn't have magic-so what was Baard talking about?!

My car jumped as the djinn Baard had been fighting, landed on top of the hood, glaring down at me with red glowing eyes, and I felt my face drain of color. It was the same djinn that'd broken into my house! The same one that'd been following me from the start!

He flung back his fist and threw it forward with a roar, pounding on the windshield.

I scrambled for something to write on, digging through my purse for something-anything-useable. As I did, I wondered. Maybe writers did have magic. They have the power to make people laugh, cry, and care about things that aren't real. Could that be-could that be magic?

The windshield cracked.

Finally I found a piece of paper and a pen, and I sat back up, making myself breathe steadily as I thought rapidly. I put pen to paper.

The pen didn't work.

In a panic, I looked round for another pen, and instead noticed my fogged up window. Perfect!

I dropped the pen and reached up with a finger and began to write. "A portal opened to the Goblin Courtyard in the Underground, pulling in the magical creatures-" I was unable to finish, as a ripple surged through the asphalt, and the ground crumbled downward, opening wide before my car. Beyond the portal, I thought I glimpsed the wavering image of the grey stone courtyard and the fountain belonging to the goblin castle's courtyard.

Gripping the seat and the steering wheel, I watched in terror as the portal began swallowing up every single magical creature in the parking lot into the hole.

Most of the goblins went rather fearfully, an emotion which turned to pleasantly surprised glee upon discovering their destination as they fell into the hole.

Even so, my stomach turned at the sight of them somersaulting in the air.

The car began to be pulled forward.

The djinn woman that had tried to kill me earlier was blown past me, and when we made eye contact, she snarled and surged toward me and drove her knife into the hood of the car, holding onto it and beginning to make her way towards me.

I leaned back, reaching for the door handle, but the car suddenly lurched forward, sliding with the aid of the icy ground.

The djinn's face went from fury to fear in an instant, and she gripped the car hood desperately.

It was no good. The portal grew stronger, and pulled the djinn woman off the car. My car followed after her, sliding forward when the hole widened, and was pulled in with me inside it.

All that was left of the portal was a gaping sinkhole in the parking lot.

Marcus hurried to the edge of the hole, and looked down inside. "Damn it, Amelia!" He cursed, then rubbed at his face with a groan. "What the hell am I going to do with you?" His body flickered, and Marcus winced, before realization entered his eyes. Looking down at the hole and clenching his jaw, he shut his eyes and reached down into it.

Immediately the residual magic within the portal remnants swirled like a breeze up his arm to his body, sending a shudder over him as his appearance transformed.

His short ashy brown hair darkened to onyx, and grew long. The wildness of it straightened into elegant locks, reaching just past his waist. His eyes, one sapphire and the other emerald, respectively, were no longer the brown they had been for so long, and his eyebrows curved upward at the ends. The roundness of his ears vanished as they grew to points, a mark of the fae. The loose clothing he had been wearing of a moment ago was gone, leaving him in a well fitted dark blue tunic and brown trousers leading to brown boots, all elegantly designed and decorated.

Marcus groaned, stretching back so his spine cracked in several places. "Stars Above." He exhaled a sharp breath and stood taller than he felt he had in years.

Glancing back at his car, he stepped up to the trunk and opened it. In the boot beneath the spare tire, he pulled free a long object wrapped in cloth. A flick of his wrist unraveled the fabric, revealing a glittering sword within an expert made sheath. He secured the sword to his belt on his way back to the hole.

"Now," He glared at the crater and crouched down beside the newly created cavern. "Who dares to take what's mine?"

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A/N: *Squee!* Things are getting exciting~!


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: Another shout out to the fantastic LovelyAmberLight! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters are not mine, folks. (But you knew that XD)

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A Writer Required

Chapter Twenty-Seven

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We were falling fast.

Desperately I snapped on my seat belt and pulled it tight, then released it to turn my head away from the windows and shut my eyes as my car fell toward the stone courtyard.

The car landed on its front right tire, and half the now thoroughly cracked windshield peeled back, leaving the other half barely holding on. The airbag deployed, pushing me back against my seat.

I heard the tire make an unpleasant sound, and the car tipped down onto all four of its tires with a terrible thud.

I grunted at the impact, but even more so as I tried to get free of the airbag. It was supposed to have started deflating. Looking round, I spotted the pen that had failed me earlier. Maybe this time round it could help. Grabbing it up, I took aim, and stabbed once, hard, at the airbag.

The air expelled rapidly, shooting the pen out of my hand and out the broken window, into the courtyard. I'd kind of expected it to happen, but it still startled me. I'd gotten some use out of it, after all. I pushed against the airbag until it was deflated enough that I could manage an attempt to get out, and unbuckled my seat belt.

I saw Baard coming toward me, his brow worriedly furrowed, and I opened the driver door.

Carefully I stepped out of the car, and my eyes landed upon the bustling goblins with worry. Had any of them been injured? My eyes fell next on the djinn, and apprehension shot through me a moment, until I realized they were bound and being surrounded by the goblins. Very angry goblins.

Baard stopped before me, looking me over for injury as I spoke. "Was anyone hurt?"

The elf shook his head negatively, reassuring me. "Not by the transportation spell. The djinn did the most damage, but our numbers were too great for any of the damage to be lasting. Are you hurt?"

Relief fell over me, and I shook my head in the negative. "You?"

"Good. I am unhurt." Baard then gestured for me to follow him. "Come, the king will want to speak with us."

I pursed my lips together in wary silence, stole a breath to steady my rapidly beating heart, and followed him. I noticed as I walked that I felt terribly nauseous. Was it the aftereffects of creating that portal? It would make sense. It also made me worry. I didn't know what consequences it would bring.

Jareth spoke first to the soldiers who had captured the djinn, and after the djinn were taken away, a goblin approached and saluted to him, and Jareth appeared to dismiss the army.

Baard and I were next, and I held the tip of my tongue between my teeth as we walked. I hesitated at the steps, looking at them harder when they seemed to double in number and lessen in width by half. I noticed when Baard looked back at me, his gaze reassuring.

Feeling a little easier, I followed him, and tried not to focus too much on the stairs.

I felt Jareth's eyes as they fell on me, and his tone was not pleased. I hadn't expected him to be-but he sounded cold; almost distant. "What is she doing here?"

I felt the blood drain away from my face, and I lowered my eyes to the stone steps before Jareth's feet.

Baard explained. "The djinn, sire. They returned in twice their original numbers. We only just arrived in time."

I felt sick at the reminder-the knife at my throat, the djinn hurting Marcus, then the reminder that Jareth had not come. I had broken his heart, and in seeing he was not coming, he had broken mine.

"And how, precisely, have you managed to bring her here?" Jareth demanded. "Explain yourself."

Baard obediently explained further. "I asked her to write us a way home."

I could feel the surprise coming off of Jareth, and his eyes fell on me again with more intensity. My cheeks gained a little heat as he continued to study me. What was he thinking? I had my answer shortly.

"Is that so." He began. "Only a particular kind of writer could have managed such a thing." His words gained a little ice. "I commend you on the spell."

Surprised by the compliment, I looked up to him, and regretted it when I felt dizzy. Even so, our eyes met, and I worked to study his cool expression, feeling no small amount of confusion. He was commending me on it?

"However," He raised his hand, pointing to something small and glittering in the sky above, where the portal had been. It was a crystal, I guessed, by how the light hit it-though it was hard to be certain at this distance, and with my eyes not quite working-but it looked to be spinning around a white mist that resembled clouds. Was that left over from my magic?

Jareth called my attention when he continued next with steel in his voice. "You are not to do such a thing ever again, without me being present. Is that understood?"

My eyes grew large in indignation, my face flushing. I pressed my lips together in frustration and tears gathered in my eyes. "Why should I listen to you?" I glared, my throat tightening with emotion. "When the need was greatest, where were you? You didn't come."

A faint clinking sound like glasses caught my ear, and I looked past Jareth. I'd forgotten about the wedding. I couldn't see inside, the difference of light outside and inside making it difficult, especially with my eyes not quite behaving.

Even so, the emotions I felt upon finding out he was to be married returned strong, but instead of raising my voice, I lowered it to avoid causing a scene. I forced my eyes to raise up to meet Jareth's. "And who kissed me while engaged to someone else?"

Jareth's anger roiled in his eyes, mingled with pain, and I felt the sudden hypocrisy of the remark. I had kissed him, while dating Andrew. But I was too angry at the moment to admit it.

"I don't have time for this." Jareth retorted, then continued. "I will explain all later, but at this moment there is not the time."

Not giving me the opportunity to reply, Jareth half turned to the two large guards flanking him. "Kindly remove the mortal transport to the back, out of sight. Anything you find in the courtyard that is not goblin made, will be brought to me for further inspection. Understood?"

At once the goblins saluted. "Yer Majesty!" Then they hurried off towards my car.

I quickly opened my mouth to tell Jareth that I could move it, but when my eyes fell upon the car, I realized that in fact, no, I couldn't move it. The front passenger side tire was bent in such a way, that driving it would be impossible. That, and I felt suddenly quite certain that I might be too disorientated to manage it. I shut my mouth again, and watched as they gathered it up in their arms and began sidling away towards the back of the castle.

"Amelia." Jareth called, and I turned back to face him. He was holding a crystal in his hand for but an instant, then he lightly tossed it to me.

I sucked in a breath in alarm and stretched out my hands to catch it before it fell. I didn't think to ask myself why he was giving me a crystal. But by then, it was too late.

Suddenly I felt the strangest sensation going down my spine, my arms and legs, and the back of my head. Then quite abruptly, the castle and everything around me, grew to enormous proportions.

I had a hard time standing upright on my suddenly silver and black taloned feet, and my knees gave out, setting me promptly on my behind.

Seeing my clearly altered feet, I looked with a steadier gaze at the rest of myself in alarm. My arms were now blue and silvery brown wings. I raised and lowered them experimentally, the sunlight catching the details of my feathers. I felt my stomach drop low, though the nausea had abated, and my heart sped up.

I had vaguely noticed Jareth's boots coming into sight a moment ago; but now I turned my head and looked up at him, stunned. He'd turned me into a bird!

"Jareth-" I began, when instead of my voice, a pleasant sounding chirp came out.

Jareth smiled a humorless smile, one distinctly without warmth that showed his firm disapproval.

He crouched down on the step beside me, letting his elbows rest on his knees as he reached down with one hand and pulled up the end of one of my wings delicately. He tilted his head in a way that was very reminiscent of his owl form, as he studied me.

"A mountain bluebird. How appropriate." He mused. He even looked a little pleased, before it vanished behind a dry remark. "I expected perhaps a shrew based on your recent behavior." Jareth then let go of the wing, and it returned to me, falling into its natural resting position against my side.

My black beaked mouth opened wide at the insult, and my feathers ruffled in indignation. "A shrew! Turn me back!" I stopped speaking, in hearing what I sounded like. It was all just lovely mountain bluebird sounds, which thoroughly annoyed me. I couldn't actually sound angry, when I was angry? With a sinking stomach, I realized, then, that nothing I said would be understood.

I struggled to get to my feet, muttering as I did. "Goodness-sake. Why can't we-just have a normal-conversation? But heaven forbid, King Tightpants-allow that!"

From above me, Jareth tutted. "Such language. I do believe my ears are burning."

I gaped up in horror at him. He understood me? My feathers settled slowly back down from their bristled state in guilt. Well, now I knew I could be understood.

Jareth went on."Keep in mind, owls eat little birds like you." He warned, stroking the backs of his index and middle fingers down the plumage of my chest lightly.

His touch was calming, which annoyed me, but his words made me abruptly wary.

He was rising back up to his feet. "Now, then, I have many things to attend to."

The goblin king turned to Baard with a heavy scowl. "You and I will have words about this matter later."

Baard gulped, and immediately bowed quite low. "I understand, My Lord."

Jareth replied firmly, "Good." then started up the steps of the castle.

Panic hit me and I felt abruptly cold. Was he just going to leave me there-after all that fuss he made?! That couldn't be the case-I was more susceptible to harm this way, than I was as a human. So what was he thinking? I would have to find out, apparently.

I scrambled after him, reaching him just as he was sending off the crystal he'd had collecting the magic in the sky earlier.

I sat as a bird normally would, catching my breath. I'd no idea birds had it so hard!

Feeling Jareth's gaze on me, I looked up just as he was looking away from me, and without a word, he strode into the castle.

I hurried after, trying to keep up.

I spent a full hour trying to keep up with Jareth, frantically dodging the busy servants and guards and ducking down next to enormous vases full of flowers or coats of armor. At one point, a gap in the wedding traffic appeared, and I scurried as fast as I could through it to catch up with Jareth.

An enormous shadow fell over me, drawing my eyes up, only to make me duck down with a panicked yelp when a very large goblin foot came down upon me.

But in the next moment, I heard a grumbling, and looked up to see the goblin's surprised face as he removed his foot, and stared down at me in bewilderment.

At first, I stared right back, until the thin, iridescent shape of a bubble shaped around me, caught my eye, and I gaped at it.

Jareth must have put a shield charm, besides the bluebird spell, in that crystal he tossed to me.

Getting to my feet, I moved to stand near a vase against the wall, out of the way so the goblin could continue his work, and I looked round for Jareth. I found him in the same place I'd last seen him, talking to a goblin chef.

He was looking back at me, an expression on his face that showed he was not at all concerned. He knew I was safe-that I'd been safe this entire time-and instead he'd let me think I was in ever imminent danger.

But that was the point, I realized. He was making a point in this, showing me just how fragile I was in comparison to those powerful beings bent, for whatever reason, on my destruction. I felt my anger melt considerably, taking a hefty portion of my stubborn pride with it.

Jareth continued on, and I trailed after, far less angry than I had been to begin with.

The guards who had taken my car away met with Jareth again, offering him a few things I couldn't quite see from my much lower angle.

Jareth then held up a set of keys, and glanced at me, but they weren't mine.

When I failed to react or respond, he moved onto the next item, which was definitely not mine. It was a bird talon of some kind, attached to a strip of leather like a bracelet.

The third thing he received made me bristle. The broken pen from before. It helped me in the end, so I wasn't as upset now as I had when it failed to write. We'd gotten away in the end, and that's what mattered.

"I tried to use that pen to write the spell, but it wouldn't write." I gave it a mild glare.

Jareth sent his own scowl down at me, his tone full of reprimand. "If you recall, you shouldn't have been trying it at all."

I wanted to say. "Except that doing the spell in the end saved us from being murdered by four very dangerous and angry djinn!" Instead I huffed and fell silent.

I missed what Jareth did with the djinn objects, but the slight touch of magic in the air made me think he must have put them away somewhere. For the pen, however, he handed it to one of the guards. "Dispose of it, it is without function."

I felt a little better in that it wouldn't be a problem anymore.

Jareth came back around to the main doors of the castle to great fae as they arrived. There were a great many of different sizes and shapes, some with twigs and flowers in their hair or even seeming to sprout from the sides of their faces, among others.

After a little while, I stood rather close behind Jareth's left boot, not out of fear of being stepped on-I had since discovered it could not be done-but rather at the looks I received from a few fae. Most looked on me with curiosity and bewilderment, while a few others gave me sharper looks. One fae man even staring after he had greeted Jareth and started into the castle.

I felt the stranger's gaze on me, and it made me so uncomfortable that I moved myself into Jareth's shadow, at this point almost pressing my side against his boot.

As soon as I did, the fae man glanced between me and Jareth, then continued on his way.

I breathed a little easier with his departure.

There was a sense of completion from Jareth after this, and I wondered if he was nearly done. At the moment he spoke to a well dressed goblin, who almost looked like a kind of butler, and seemed to be in charge of overseeing Jareth's orders that they would be completed.

One check of the ballroom afterwards-which slowed me down as I stared in amazement, taking everything in-and then he was off down the hall again.

I'd eventually figured out how to successfully hop and glide, and when we came to an empty corridor, I at last attempted to fly. I kept low to the ground at first, then growing a little more confident, flew a little higher until I landed with a clumsy wobble on Jareth's shoulder.

I breathed heavily a moment, trying to catch my breath, then gave him a mild glare. "I'm sorry for earlier-but maybe next time we can talk instead of resorting to transformations? I'd appreciate it-"

Jareth cut me short when he raised his hand and cupped it carefully over me.

I was bewildered initially, but it turned to caution when I heard footsteps approaching. Was Jareth protecting me from someone?

I felt quite cold as Jareth spoke. "Ah. Bachzuk. I see you received my invitation in time." Bachzuk? That was the name of that desert king he'd mentioned! The one he said suspected had killed his wife and child!

My head twinged at that, and I winced. I focused again on the conversation as Bachzuk replied.

"Goblin King." His voice was flat, but almost double layered, like he was attempting to add a friendly tone to an otherwise emotionless one.

I wondered if his expression didn't show the same thing. Curious, also, to see what he looked like, I shifted a little to look past Jareth's hand at the desert king.

He was standing from a bow just then, and almost as though he could sense someone looking at him, his eyes flit up to meet mine.

One of his eyebrows raised, and a layer of amusement and playfulness shown over his lips. It was like looking at two people, blurred into one, and it hurt my eyes just a little to look at him.

But there was also something dangerous about him, too, that made its difficult for me to look away. Almost like the danger of looking away from a snake, when it is coiled in preparation to strike you.

To look away could mean death.

"And who is this…" He trailed off, and his eyes beneath the layer narrowed as though assessing me. "...Little Sparrow? A friend of yours?" The way he said 'Little Sparrow', felt distinctly odd. Like he was giving me the name.

His eyes traveled between me and Jareth, then he lifted his hand and waved a crooked finger at me in greeting as he took a step closer.

Something about the movement read aggressive to me, because my feathers bristled up instinctively in anxiety and mistrust, and before I quite knew I was doing it, I was backing away, back under Jareth's hand. I left one eye on him, but the longer I looked at him, the more frantically my heart beat. I felt Jareth's hand lower slightly around me as though to offer comfort, and I was grateful for it.

"Aw, do not be as such." He half-cooed, craning to have a closer look at me.

I glared a warning at him.

Jareth spoke up with a thin lacing of steel on his words. "I believe she is tired. It has been a long day for all." The steel left as he flicked his attention back the way Bachzuk had come from. "How fares your daughter Sazbet? As I recall, she was recently betrothed, was she not?"

A hollow smile spread beneath Bachzuk's flat eyes, and he followed it with his words. "No marriage for my desert flower just yet. A few things to tend to first, before a lucky young man might pluck her from my garden." The desert king gave Jareth a meaningful look, that same layer of false playfulness present. "Perhaps if you change your mind…?"

I gaped at him. The man had the audacity to suggest such a thing at Jareth's wedding announcement?!

Jareth deflected the remark with a hard chuckle. "Such a thought! I fear Sazbet will find a much better husband elsewhere." He nodded with respect, and a sharp gaze. "Excuse me, I have a matter to attend to." He waved a hand back up the hallway behind Bachzuk.

The desert king's layered smile fell, and his eyes flickered, but he bowed. "Of course, of course. Forgive me." He waved once more at me. "Goodbye, Little Sparrow. Perhaps I will see you again."

I tensed, looking back at him. Why had his words felt more like a promise?

Without another word, the desert king made an about face and traveled up the hallway.

Once he was gone, Jareth left in the opposite direction.

I felt a great deal better once we'd put distance between us and Bachzuk.

Jareth entered his study, then closed and locked the door before speaking. "Well then, 'Little Sparrow'," He said the name with distaste, and carefully lifted me down and placed me on the chair sitting before his desk. "Let us see if you have learned your lesson."

I raised my head in hope at his words, but when I saw his countenance was still so cross, I felt the hope sink a little.

But the next moment he conjured a crystal, and tossed it over to me.

I tensed, but it stopped in the air above me, and lifted upward. Gradually I grew bigger, and transformed back into myself.

He did not give me the opportunity to speak, further showing he was still angry. "Now then." He started, and he glanced upward as the crystal disappeared, then returned his eyes with a hard stare at me.

I felt distinctly uncomfortable, my face reddening.

"Never threaten to disobey me again. Your life is in danger, and until I know who is responsible for these attacks, my word for you is law. There will be no argument. There will be no use of your writing magic. Until such a time that we are able to sit and discuss these things, you will do as I say without complaint or argument. Do we have an accord?"

My heart sank rapidly. I had thought…

I swallowed, and my expression hardened. I had thought we were going to talk more, as he had mentioned before. But that was not the case, apparently. Was he ever going to talk to me? Straightening up, I replied stiffly, my anger returning. "Fine."

Jareth was unperturbed, and he continued to speak. "I have a marriage announcement to make. The bride has a child who will need tending to for a brief time before and after the announcement." His gaze grew cold, immovable. "You have a talent for tending to children, and will be the one to mind the infant prince until such a time that his mother will be ready to receive him again."

Jareth waved a hand for me to get to my feet, and I did after a moment.

"Until otherwise spoken, you will be here in the capacity of a nanny to the child, and otherwise a servant when not caring for the child. You will refer to me as 'Your Majesty', 'Sire', or 'My Lord', and not by name. You will call Lady Aerol just that, or 'My Lady'. Your name here will be Anthea." He went on. "It is similar enough to your true name that a slip would not be suspicious, and you will more easily recognize it."

Jareth conjured a crystal once more, and tossed it upward. It went up as far as it could, then vanished, taking us with it. We appeared in a sort of sitting room decorated in grey and dark blue, accented with crystal in various forms.

Before I could fully register my surroundings, he bade me follow him. Leaving the room, we entered a hallway that was connected to two other doors. We entered another sitting room, then went beyond it and came into an empty nursery, and beyond it still, into a bed chamber.

Jareth gestured at the wardrobe against the wall. "Choose something to change into. A simple dress. I will be in the nursery."

I nodded to show I understood, and he left, closing the door behind him.

Approaching the wardrobe, I placed a hand on it, wondering if it behaved like the one in my book. Opening one door, I looked inside to find it held a variety of clothing, though most of it looked for someone much shorter than myself. Closing it, I spoke quietly. "I would like a simple dress and shoes that are comfortable, please."

There was a faint rustle inside it, and when I opened both the doors, I found three dresses with shoes to match. I smiled, delighted it had worked. The three dresses were a pastel blue, white, and a pastel pink. I chose the blue dress and the shoes, then closed the doors with a quiet. "Thank you."

I changed quickly, retrieving my spare hair tie from my jeans pocket and pulling my hair back into a low bun. The outfit as a whole was what I had hoped for. Simple, but still pretty.

I returned to the nursery once finished, realizing as I was entering that Jareth might not be alone. But when I saw it was still just us, I gestured lightly at the dress. "Is it alright?" He nodded, and I felt my uncertainty disappear, replaced by relief.

"You will remain here with the child during the announcement, and when Aerol is ready, she will come for the child. You will then come to my sitting room chamber, and we will speak." Jareth instructed.

I felt some relief. It would be simply tending. But then I recalled it would be a fae infant, and I felt same apprehension. Did I need to be on the lookout for small bouts of magic?

If it was something that happened, Jareth never mentioned it. Instead he spoke. "I will fetch Aerol and the child. Remember, Anthea," He spoke with emphasis on the name. "that you are nanny and servant. Act accordingly."

At once I dropped into a curtsey, and in all seriousness offered a reply. "Yes, Your Majesty." Then I rose and clasped my hands together before me.

I could swear I saw a faint twinkle of amusement in Jareth's eyes, and a twitch of one corner of his lips, but instead he spoke coolly. "That will do."

"Wait here." He pointed at a spot I should occupy, and I moved to it at once.

He left, returning not long after with Aerol and her baby.

Aerol had a kind, though slightly uncertain countenance, and her baby was quite possibly the most adorable little prince I had ever seen. He was rubbing one of his eyes sleepily when they came in, and he blinked in my direction when they stopped before me.

I felt my heart melt a little at the adorable expression, and I offered them both a warm smile. I almost forgot to curtsey, and I did so now with a greeting. "My Lady." I cast a quick look of apology at Jareth.

He gave a slight nod in acknowledgement of it, and I felt some relief in seeing he wasn't cross with me.

I looked back to the little prince and smiled happily at him, and my smile grew when he started to smile back.

"My Lady, this is Anthea. The nanny I spoke to you of. She is most excellent with children, and will take good care of your prince." Jareth gestured at me.

I had a brief moment of panic, not sure if I should curtsey again or not, and my cheeks darkened a little until Aerol spoke to me.

"Hello Anthea." She greeted, and sent a loving smile down to her son. "This is Fiero. He is very well behaved. It is near his resting time, so he will wish to sleep soon. When we return I will feed him."

I nodded. "I understand. I'll take good care of him."

A smile full of relief fell upon Aerol's lips, and she came up to me to hand the baby to me.

I smiled warmly down at him, speaking softly. "Hello, Little Prince! How are you today?" The prince's smile widened, and he cooed tentatively back, reaching up to my face with a tiny hand.

I felt Jareth's eyes on me as they were leaving, and my heart sank. After a moment I made myself look up at him, my smile failing as I did.

He looked almost pained.

I wished we could have talked before now.

A sudden sinking feeling entered my stomach, and I turned my gaze back to the prince in a hurry, discomforted by the feeling. My expression lightened and my smile returned upon seeing his smiling face, and I cooed quietly to him. "Hello."

Aerol spoke Jareth's name, and he replied before closing the door behind them.

My shoulders relaxed a little, and I giggled quietly when the little prince yawned sleepily. "My goodness, what a yawn." I smiled at him.

He blinked up at me, his smile turning sleepy.

I found a blanket in the crib to swaddle him in, then eased back into the rocking chair next to it, folding my legs before me.

Despite the swaying motion and being swaddled up snug, the prince made a face, and fussed as he tried to move his arms. I loosened the swaddling to give him more movement, and he managed to free his arms. I let them be, and adjusted the blanket so he would still be warm.

He cooed up at me, then blinked at the ceiling, waving his little arms.

I thought as I watched him, trying to process everything that had happened in just the space of a few hours.

Jareth was getting married-and apparently had been planning to for some time. He'd been with Aerol for longer than nine months, apparently.

I felt angry, but more than that, I felt used. Jareth and I had grown close, and all the while he'd had a future wife and child that needed him!

My anger mounted, and I turned my thoughts away from the matter to calm myself. It was no good being upset. I would wait, and talk with Jareth when he returned.

Fiero cooed at me, and giggled, seeming delighted with something above me.

I smiled in amusement and adoration at him, and movement above drew my gaze, and I gasped in wonder.

There were dozens of tiny, wispy fragments of rainbow, floating above us. They floated dreamily along, like rainbows from a slowly turning series of crystals hanging in a window. Though even as I watched, a couple new rainbows were being created, and when I glanced down at Fiero, I realized his tiny hands were making the light.

My attention was pulled upward again when a few rainbows began to drift downward, floating between us. I wondered if they would react if I touched them, and I stopped myself as I lifted my hand to try it.

Jareth had warned me not to use magic. But, technically, I reasoned, I wasn't. Still feeling cautious, I lifted my hand higher, and gently swept a finger beneath the nearest rainbow. Just as gently, I pushed my hand slowly away and up in a curling motion, which turned the rainbow into a swirl of color that then floated upward again with the movement.

The prince giggled, watching it as it swirled upward.

I grinned lightly at him, then looked up as another piece of rainbow floated down. It landed on my ring this time, and the crystal sparkled faintly as though delighted.

A thought came to mind, and I sent a brief thought to the ring.

It happily complied with my suggestion. While the crystal held onto the majority of the rainbow, I sent it a thought that folded part of the rainbow down on itself, and took shape before it then fluttered upward and took flight in the form of a butterfly.

The prince's eyes widened at the butterfly as it landed upon his hand, then took flight again when his fingers uncurled toward it. It remained nearby, gliding and fluttering above him. He giggled at it, his fingers reaching upward and the butterfly coming nearer that it might land on his fingertips before taking flight again, making him giggle.

His reactions to the butterfly was so adorable, I couldn't help but giggle with him. The ring must have enjoyed our laughter, for it asked me if it could make more butterflies. I replied that it could, but not too many. Within moments we had four small rainbow butterflies fluttering in the air around us. They didn't crowd, thankfully, but kept a fair distance with only one or two coming down at a time to entertain the prince.

After a few minutes of this, Fiero reached toward my ring when he discovered the butterflies were coming from it.

I smiled lightly in amusement, an expression that turned at once to astonishment when the ring started to work its way down my finger toward him. "Ah! Careful there, little prince." I turned my hand and curled my fingers so the ring wouldn't fly off. I smiled apologetically at him. "Sorry, sweetie." I kissed his forehead lightly when he started to fuss, and he settled down again, looking sleepy once more. "You're quite clever, aren't you?" I murmured with a quiet laugh, and sent him a warm smile.

Within a few moments, the little prince was fast asleep. The butterflies had all settled down, two upon the crib, the third on the prince's hand, and the fourth resting upon my ring. I suspected the ring was just very proud of itself and wanted to keep one of them. I hardly minded. It did a good job with the butterflies.

I waited a minute longer after the prince was asleep before laying him in his crib. One of the butterflies on the crib fluttered down to rest between his hand and his head, like a little guardian butterfly. I smiled at that, and turned to sit again in the rocking chair.

I was stopped, however, when I noticed how many little rainbows were still in the air. Lifting my hand, I swept my fingers at a few rainbows with the hope that they would dissipate. Instead, the ring collected them, creating another butterfly. "Oh, goodness." I sighed, amused and exasperated at the now two butterflies resting on my ring. I settled back into the rocking chair and examined the ring. So long as it didn't cause any mischief, I supposed it wasn't a problem.

Half an hour passed before Aerol returned through the door leading directly to her bed chambers, and I stood and curtseyed. She offered a grateful smile, waving me out of the curtsey. "Thank you for tending to him. I was able to have a small rest." Her eyes caught sight of the rainbows, and especially those on the ring, and she laughed quietly. "That happened to me, as well. I don't think Fiero knows how to get rid of them as yet. Jareth had to help me remove them in the end."

Aerol gestured at the door leading to the sitting room. "The king mentioned he wanted to speak with you in his sitting room." She pointed out the rainbow light on my ring. "I'm sure he can remove the rainbows for you, as well."

Thanking her, I curtseyed again and quietly left. I passed quickly through the sitting room, and out into the hallway. Upon arriving at Jareth's chamber doors, I took a quick breath, and raised my hand to knock.

Unfortunately, the ring was distracted by entertaining itself, and when I lifted my hand, the ring slipped free.

Startled, I looked down to see the butterflies fluttering, taking the ring with them across the stone floor. Realizing what had happened, the ring let go of the butterflies and rainbow, all of which took to the air in different directions.

Turning to catch the ring, I instead bumped into someone.

"Oh!" I almost straightened up, when I remembered I was supposed to be posing as a servant, and I kept my head down and quickly curtseyed. "Excuse me!"

"It's nothing." Replied the stranger.

My brow furrowed as I studied his boots. Why did they look familiar?

He shifted on his feet, and lifted a hand, surprising me by tilting up my chin until I was looking at him. "I promise I won't hold it against you, little bluebird."

My heart jumped nastily at his words, and I stared.

It was the same man from before-the one who had been watching me after greeting Jareth!

He was looking at me now-looking at me with a crooked smile as though he knew I had been that bluebird he had passed.

I remembered my ring, then, and swallowed nervously. Clearing my throat, I leaned back out of his grasp. "That's-very kind of you. Excuse me, I've dropped something." I replied stiffly. I turned and caught sight of my ring near his left boot, and bent forward to reach out and pick it up.

Before I could touch it, his hand took hold of my lower arm, just past my wrist, and he lifted me carefully back up. "Oh, no," He began, and by how he said it, I thought he was next going to insist on picking it up for me. Instead, he ignored the ring entirely, and pulled me up with him as he straightened, holding my arm between us, and my heart sped up painfully in growing panic.

"I think not."

Moving fast, he stepped closer and looped his arm around my back, holding my arm down across my abdomen, and using it and his own, he held down my other arm.

I opened my mouth to shout for help, when he clamped a hand over it, then turned us both and tapped his elbow against the wall. There, a round black crystal had been placed. Upon touching it, it expanded and immediately grew into a tall, narrow black portal, only big enough for someone to step through.

Panic surged through me, and I attempted to stomp on his feet. I was unsuccessful, though, because at that same moment, he crushed me to his chest in order to lift me off of my feet.

Then in two quick strides, he stepped through the portal, into darkness.

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A/N: I'm considering posting the next chapter tomorrow, so don't hate me? ;) Love you guys! Thanks for reading!


	28. Chapter 28

A/N: Shout out to the fantastic LovelyAmberLight for her help and for keeping me writing! Also, bear with me in this chapter. All shall be explained soon.

Disclaimer: Still don't own it. Wouldn't mind working for the Henson Co., though. *Sighs* Well, a lady can dream.

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A Writer Required

Chapter Twenty-Eight

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"Yes, that will do there. Raise the garland above the center table and lower the chandelier." I directed. Things were going fairly well. I waved at the goblins lowering the chandelier. "Excellent. That will do nicely, I think-"

A surge of magic outside the castle formed. I could sense even from this distance that it was a transportation spell. A very large one.

There was a great noise from the courtyard that echoed into the castle, pulling the attention from all in the ballroom.

I waved at them to continue, and two guards followed at a gesture from me as I went to investigate.

I paid them no heed as I focused on the magic, mentally locating it in the sky above the courtyard. My brow furrowed at this. It couldn't be Baard. He and my goblin army had traveled to the Above in a far subtler fashion.

Regardless of the caster, it was dissipating quickly, leaving only remnants lacing the sky where it had appeared. I could sense that the sky was returning to normal, and I twirled my wrist to form a crystal to throw it up to the sky to collect the remaining magic to keep it from going rogue and causing mischief.

I released the crystal into the air, and it flit out an open window and rose into the sky to fulfill its task.

Upon reaching the courtyard, my goblin guards gasped, bringing my gaze down to rest upon the courtyard. What greeted my eyes was not what I had expected.

A great mess lay before me.

There was a rather badly beaten vehicle I recognized as Amelia's sitting at one end, and a mass of creatures consisting of my goblin army that were currently busy herding and binding a handful of drained djinn.

Four.

Four djinn.

I was grateful all over again for the spell I had placed on the Labyrinth thousands of years ago.

Any djinn entering my realm would be instantly drained of their magic. Bachzuk in the past had been rather irritable over the matter, but a thousand years or more later, he gruffly decided it was not so big a matter as he had previously perceived. The djinn were creatures of magic, and therefor fed on magic. The Labyrinth would be a veritable feast for them.

For clear reasons, I would not allow such a thing to happen.

The djinn would strengthen once within their own desert homeland, and not before, unless given outside help.

I returned to the present moment, casting my eyes in search of Baard.

He had returned to tell me all was well with Amelia, that the djinn had been beaten with the aid of the ring, and he told me that Amelia was no longer being courted by Andrew.

My gaze was drawn towards Amelia's vehicle when I spotted a flash of green.

Baard was making his way to it, and the driver door opened.

I straightened haughtily, feeling the sting of her rejection faintly once more.

Amelia stepped clear of the vehicle, looking ruffled and dirty, but uninjured.

I caught myself taking in a deep breath at the sight of her, and stopped, silently rebuking my heart.

Her eyes looked round in worry at the goblins and apprehension at the djinn, and she spoke to Baard, who shook his head as though to reassure her, and they had a brief conversation.

The elf spoke once more and gestured for her to follow him.

Pursing her lips silently, she took in a quick breath, then followed.

But she was moving unsteadily, as though dizzy. After a drop like that, it was not surprising.

The four bound djinn arrived before me, and I spoke to the soldiers herding them. "Take the djinn around to the back entrance to the dungeon. I will have words with them later." The soldiers bowed and did as commanded, making their way around to the back of the castle to a separate entrance.

I did not want four assassins marched through my castle that they might memorize the layout.

The general of my army came forward next and saluted, asking for instructions.

"Return to the barracks and then dismiss your men to their homes until they are called again." I commanded.

The general bowed, and with a few words to his captains, the entire army departed.

I turned my attention with reluctance to Baard and Amelia as they approached.

Baard ascended the steps easily, but Amelia seemed hesitant, her brow furrowing at the stairs. Baard glanced back at her, and in seeing it, she began up the stairs.

She looked a little green, as though she might be ill.

Studying them both, I questioned Baard. "What is she doing here?"

The green of Amelia's pallor faded slightly, and she failed to meet my eyes.

"The djinn, sire." Baard responded. "They returned in twice their original numbers. We only just arrived in time."

My heart twisted.

Just in time.

My eyes flit to Amelia's face at that, but she was busy studying the stone beneath my feet, her eyes distant and pained. She had the look of someone who had stared death in the face.

My stomach dropped, and I pulled my attention back to Baard, my gaze turning frigid. "And how, precisely, have you managed to bring her here?" I had not felt the magic of a wish, and certainly no deal had been made. "Explain yourself."

My loyal spy did as commanded. "I asked her to write us a way home."

My eyebrows raised in surprise. I knew of Amelia's magic, but this… A portal of such size, spanning such distance… It was a miracle she was standing upright at all!

Stomach turning, I studied her more closely, and realized what I had observed in her up until this point made sense after such a massive spell.

"Is that so." My gaze flit to Amelia, and while some color returned to her cheeks, she did not meet my eyes. "Only a particular kind of writer could have managed such a thing." I nodded at her, my words cool. "I commend you on the spell."

Her eyes met mine in surprise and confusion, and the green returned slightly to her face before I continued.

"However," I lifted a hand to point out the crystal still gathering the portal magic-her magic-which was now swirling and churning in the sky like a cloud bank not yet deciding if it should be a thunderstorm. "You are not to do such a thing ever again, without me being present. Is that understood?"

Amelia's eyes widened, and her cheeks darkened as her lips pressed together in frustration.

Unnoticed by her, the clouds of her magic in the sky darkened, and a sound not unlike thunder faintly rumbled.

"Why should I listen to you?" Tears gathered in her eyes, and the storm above grew darker at the base. "When the need was greatest, where were you? You didn't come."

A sound in the hall behind me drew her attention, and I recognized the sound as servants carrying trays of the crystal glasses I had called for.

Her blue eyes revealed the hurt and anger she felt, but they hardened and she dropped her voice to a lower volume to avoid eavesdroppers, as her gaze lifted again to mine. "And who kissed me while engaged to someone else?"

My anger boiled. That, was hardly fair.

"I don't have time for this." I went on. "I will explain all later, but at this moment there is not the time." With all that was happening, this was about as much as I could take in.

My faux wedding for Aerol.

The visiting fae in the kingdom.

Possible djinn assassins.

Amelia rejecting me for the pathetic mortal prat, Andrew.

The attack on her life, the memory of her death.

And now I had to repair the magical walls between the Above and Underground, because Baard felt the need to instruct a mortal-a mortal without training or previous experience-to send more than a thousand magical creatures through the very fabric of reality, landing them before the castle in full sight of all.

On top of all of this, she felt the need to argue.

I had had quite enough for one day.

Half turning to the two large guards flanking me, I addressed them. "Kindly remove the mortal transport to the back, out of sight. Clear the courtyard. Anything you find in the courtyard that is not goblin made, will be brought to me for further inspection. Understood?"

The two goblins saluted dutifully with a gruff, "Yer Majesty!" and marched off with haste.

Amelia opened her mouth to protest, likely to suggest she move it, only to see one of the tires was very much at an incorrect angle than originally designed.

Her mouth shut again.

While she was thus distracted, I began down the steps towards her. With a flick of my wrist, I conjured a crystal and stopped a few steps away. "Amelia." I spoke, and upon gaining her full attention when she turned back to me, I lightly tossed the crystal to her.

Out of reflex she caught it, as I had intended, and the crystal vanished.

Abruptly Amelia was shrinking and transforming, the little boost of magic I'd placed in it returned her coloring to her cheeks-something to sustain her until she could eat and rest-and I continued forward.

At the same moment that I stopped beside her, Amelia had shrunken down and taken the form of a bluebird.

She tottered on her new grey feet and fell backward onto her backside, then began examining herself with alarm. Her blue and silvery brown wings caught the light as she raised and lowered them in shock as she studied them, then looked up at me with enormous eyes, her black beak opening.

A pleasant chirping sound was all that was heard, and I smiled without humor or warmth at her bewildered expression and question.

Crouching down, I rested my elbows on my knees and reached one hand down to her, lifting a wing carefully. She was only six inches tall in this state. I tilted my head to one side as I studied her.

"A mountain bluebird. How appropriate." I noted, almost pleased, before adding dryly. "I expected perhaps a shrew based on your recent behavior." I released her wing, and it fell back down to fold into place.

Amelia's little jaw dropped again, then closed as her feathers ruffled up in indignation. She began shouting at me, but it all came out in a series of repetitive 'tink's. Some of the words she spoke came out sounding like "tew!" and "peu!", and she seemed to realize that not one word translated.

At least, not to anyone but myself.

I distinctly sensed the emotion behind the sounds that then formed words.

She was furious with me.

Amelia stopped fussing once she realized it would do her no good to speak. Even angry, the sounds her newly acquired bird form made were pleasant, and this seemed to thoroughly annoy her.

She looked down at her feet and climbed carefully up into a standing position, making little sounds as she did so.

My eyebrows lifted high, and I tutted. "Such language. I do believe my ears are burning."

Amelia ducked down and stared up at me in horror at being caught. Her feathers settled down, weighed with guilt.

"Keep in mind, owls eat little birds like you." I warned her, stroking the backs of my index and middle fingers down the plumage of her chest lightly.

For a moment she relaxed, before tensing again as though annoyed by it.

I straightened up to my full height. "Now, then, I have many things to attend to."

With a scowl, I turned to Baard to address him. "You and I will have words about this matter later."

Baard swallowed, bowing lower. "I understand, My Lord."

"Good." The matter momentarily settled, I turned and made my way back up the castle steps.

I could hear Amelia's tiny feet trying to hurry after me, and by the time I'd reached the top of the stairs and was finishing speaking with the guards there, she arrived behind me.

I looked up at the crystal in the sky to observe its progress. The sky was clear of Amelia's magic, and the crystal that had absorbed it was returning to me full. I sent it with a flick of my wrist to my study where it would be safe.

I glanced down at Amelia afterward, purely to be certain I didn't step on her, then continued into the castle.

A very productive hour passed where I moved through the day's tasks. Free, for the most part, of worry. The chances of Amelia tearing another hole in the fabric of reality were nonexistent, and no one in their right mind would take a look at the mountain bluebird furiously marching after me, and take it for a human woman.

There was a moment while talking to the head goblin chef regarding the menu, where I glanced back at Amelia when she was suddenly quite loud. Seeing she was perfectly safe, I waited until she caught sight of me, then continued on.

I spoke with the guards I'd sent off earlier with Amelia's vehicle, and examined what few items were dropped in the courtyard that they'd gathered.

There were three in total.

Two belonged to the djinn, being a set of keys presumably for a vehicle not present-I hoped-Amelia did not react upon seeing them, in any case, which told me they were not hers.

The second item was some sort of charm in the form of a bird talon on a band of leather.

From my experience, it was not an owl talon. Which rendered it all the more intriguing. If it had been an owl talon, I might have suspected it for a location charm, possibly intended for tracking me. However, being that it was not, I could not as yet discern its purpose.

The third item was a pen, definitely human in design, and apparently offensive to Amelia, who warbled at me.

I scowled down in reprimand at her. "If you recall, you shouldn't have been trying it at all."

She huffed, and seemed to realize it hardly mattered now. The temporary mountain bluebird fell silent, still looking quite cross.

I sent the djinn objects in a crystal to my study for later, more extensive examination, and returned the pen to one of the guards. "Dispose of it, it is without function." The guards bowed and hurried off to obey and return to their duties.

I greeted guests as they arrived, only a few of whom noticed my tiny fowl shadow, but they were well mannered enough not to mention it.

The last of the preparations for the wedding announcement were finally finished, and I left my chamberlain with the final triple checks to complete, and the ballroom well in order.

Amelia had managed from time to time to hop and glide, and while I was on my way to my study, she at last discovered how to fly. She landed upon my shoulder, huffing from the exertion, but not as angry as she had been to begin with.

Amelia began to speak to me in a series of twitterings, when I encountered Bachzuk in the hall.

Reaching up, I placed a hand gently over her, silencing her momentarily as I greeted the desert king. "Ah. Bachzuk. I see you received my invitation in time." This was purely politeness. The monarchy of other kingdoms, as a rule, were often invited to such events.

Tasha's father had not been one invited, however, upon the event of our own marriage announcement. Neither of us had a desire to set eyes on the man, ever again. He had hurt her enough.

Bachzuk had received his invitation on duty, but he had been invited for the sole purpose of allowing me to discover who was behind the djinn attacks. Being the djinn called their home the desert kingdom, and Bachzuk himself owed his soul to a djinn; he was a safe choice for suspects.

"Goblin King." Bachzuk bowed at the waist in greeting, and I felt Amelia shift beneath my hand to look out at the man.

Standing up straight once more, Bachzuk caught sight of her, and he lifted an eyebrow in question over his flat eyes, and faint amusement tugged at his lips.

"And who is this…" He struggled for the words a moment, and his eyes narrowed almost unnoticeably. "...Little Sparrow? A friend of yours?" His eyes flit to meet mine briefly before returning to Amelia.

The desert king raised a hand and bent a finger in what was likely meant to be a playful greeting at her, stepping closer.

Amelia bristled slightly, and retreated carefully backward, halfway behind my fingers. She kept one of her eyes on Bachzuk, and I could feel her heart beneath my hand beating faster than before.

I managed to keep an alarmed frown free of my face, but my hand fell more securely around her.

"Aw, do not be as such." Bachzuk tipped his head to the side to better see her, and I decided that was quite enough silly behavior from this desert king.

"I believe she is tired. It has been a long day for all." I glanced past him up the hallway, changing the subject. "How fares your daughter Sazbet? As I recall, she was recently betrothed, was she not?"

The desert king sent me a sharp glance that he softened with a hollow smile. "No marriage for my desert flower just yet. A few things to tend to first, before a lucky young man might pluck her from my garden." Raising an eyebrow, he added in that same attempted playful tone. "Perhaps if you change your mind...?" He trailed off.

The man was as subtle as a sandstorm.

I forced a chuckle. "Such a thought! I fear Sazbet will find a much better husband elsewhere." Tipping my head respectfully, I stepped to one side of the hall. "Excuse me, I have a matter to attend to." I gestured pointedly back up the way he had come, towards the guest chambers.

Bachzuk's smile fell only a little, and he bowed once more. "Of course, of course. Forgive me." Giving one more little wave to Amelia, he bade her farewell. "Goodbye, Little Sparrow. Perhaps I will see you again."

Amelia stiffened under the protection of my hand.

Bachzuk then turned and wandered back up the hallway.

I waited until he had gone up the corridor leading to the guest wing, to turn on my heel and make my way to the study.

Amelia's heart had slowed by the time we arrived, and I stepped inside immediately, locking the door behind me.

"Well then, 'Little Sparrow'," I drawled, disgusted by Bachzuk's facade, as I delicately lifted Amelia down from my shoulder, into my hands to place her on the chair across from my desk. "Let us see if you have learned your lesson."

Her head perked up hopefully, and I made my way around the desk to stand before my seat, my arms folded.

Conjuring a crystal, I tossed it to her. It stopped just above her, and began floating upward, extracting the spell and slowly transforming Amelia back to her natural form.

"Now then." I began, once the transformation was completed, and the crystal faded away. I stared her down, and her cheeks gained a rosy hue. "Never threaten to disobey me again. Your life is in danger, and until I know who is responsible for these attacks, my word for you is law. There will be no argument. There will be no use of your writing magic. Until such a time that we are able to sit and discuss these things, you will do as I say without complaint or argument. Do we have an accord?"

Amelia's expression had turned stony throughout my declaration, and she offered a stiff reply. "Fine." She was clearly still quite angry.

That was fine by me, so long as she kept her word and obeyed mine.

"I have a marriage announcement to make. The bride has a child who will need tending to for a brief time before and after the announcement." My gaze hardened upon her, unyielding. "You have a talent for tending to children, and will be the one to mind the infant prince until such a time that his mother will be ready to receive him again." I made a gesture for her to stand, and she did with brief hesitation.

"Until otherwise spoken, you will be here in the capacity of a nanny to the child, and otherwise a servant when not caring for the child. You will refer to me as 'Your Majesty', 'Sire', or 'My Lord', and not by name. You will call Lady Aerol just that, or 'My Lady'. Your name here will be Anthea." I explained further. "It is similar enough to your true name that a slip would not be suspicious, and you will more easily recognize it."

Conjuring a crystal, I lifted it between us and tossed it up. Reaching its nadir, it vanished and we were no longer in the study, but in the sitting room of my chambers.

Gesturing for her to follow, I led the way out of the room to the hallway connecting the royal quarters. We entered the nursery sitting room, then moved into the currently empty nursery, as Aerol and her child were in the queen's chambers, and we then moved beyond it to the nursemaid's chambers where Amelia would be staying for the time being. Another room beyond it held a bathing chamber.

Pointing out the bed chamber's wardrobe, I told Amelia. "Choose something to change into. A simple dress. I will be in the nursery."

Amelia nodded, and I left her to change, closing the door behind me.

She was changed quickly, and returned to the nursery in a simple pale blue dress decorated sparsely on the hem and the ends of the sleeves with tiny embroidered jasmine vines in light green, and blossoms of white. The sleeves were three quarters length, and the skirt itself reached to just above the matching slippers she wore. She'd tied her hair back into a low bun at the nape of her neck, and entered the room looking uncertain.

I thought she looked lovely.

Upon seeing it was just the two of us, she gestured at the dress and spoke quietly. "Is it alright?"

I nodded, and the uncertainty on her face evaporated into relief.

"You will remain here with the child during the announcement, and when Aerol is ready, she will come for the child. You will then come to my sitting room chamber, and we will speak." I explained.

Amelia seemed marginally relieved at this, but also somewhat apprehensive.

"I will fetch Aerol and the child. Remember, Anthea," I spoke her false name with emphasis to remind her of it. "that you are nanny and servant. Act accordingly."

Amelia surprised me by immediately dropping into a small curtsey, and quite seriously replied. "Yes, Your Majesty." She rose again from the curtsey, clasping her hands together before her.

I fought back an amused smile. "That will do." I acknowledged.

"Wait here." I gestured at one of the long chaise lounges, and she moved to stand at the end of it.

I then left the nursery, and returned shortly with Aerol and her son.

The infant dark fae prince was rubbing one eye when they came in, and he blinked sleepily when he saw Amelia.

My wife's eyes immediately softened and warmed with adoration at the child, and warm kindness towards his mother. She curtseyed belatedly, greeting Aerol, "My Lady." and sent me a brief, apologetic glance.

I acknowledged it with a faint nod, showing I was not upset by it.

Upon waking further, the little prince had a better look at Amelia, and she smiled happily at him, drawing a small smile from him that steadily grew.

"My Lady, this is Anthea. The nanny I spoke to you of. She is most excellent with children, and will take good care of your prince." I gestured to Amelia.

Amelia seemed unsure whether or not she should curtsey again, but Aerol spoke before she could decide.

"Hello Anthea." She said, then looked down to the baby with a loving smile. "This is Fiero. He is very well behaved. It is near his resting time, so he will wish to sleep soon. When we return I will feed him."

Amelia nodded attentively. "I understand. I'll take good care of him."

Aerol gave her a smile full of relief, then stepped closer and carefully passed over the prince.

Amelia was smiling warmly at the baby, and spoke softly to him. "Hello, Little Prince! How are you today?" The smile on the prince's face grew bigger, and he offered a faint coo back and reached a little hand up toward her face.

As Aerol and I were leaving, I looked back.

I found it difficult to tear my eyes away from the warmth of her expression, my heart aching painfully. When was the last time she had looked upon me with any degree of warmth?

Amelia looked up at me as though she could feel my gaze, and the warmth within her eyes faded slightly.

The pain in my chest magnified.

She quickly returned her attention back to the prince, her eyes warming again as she cooed to him, though her brow was furrowed slightly.

"Jareth?" Aerol had turned back around.

I brought my attention back to her. "Yes, forgive me." I closed the door, offering Aerol my arm.

We arrived in silence and the two guards posted at the balcony doors opened them at a nod from me. We then stepped forward together onto the balcony.

"Goblin Citizens and honored guests, it is my pleasure to introduce to you, my wife!" I declared loudly with a large smile.

The guests clapped but the cheers from the goblin residents were deafening.

I kept my smile, and noted Aerol's own expression was the same, though I could tell hers was forced. I did not blame her. We both had another we longed for, and for our own different reasons, could not be with them.

'Perhaps,' I thought. 'Once we speak, things will change.' For Aerol, I thought on. 'I will help her find her lost prince, help her and her son find him and their happy ending.'

We both offered a wave and departed back into the castle, and I walked Aerol to the queen's chambers.

"I think I will have a small rest before I gather Fiero to feed him." Aerol informed me.

I nodded. "When you gather him, inform Anthea that I would like to speak to her in my sitting room." Aerol said she would, and I bid her that she rest well, then left.

I paused in the hallway at the nursery door for a moment. What would Amelia say to all of this once I explained? I took a breath. 'Perhaps it would be wiser not to think too much on it for the moment.' I thought. I was still quite angry with her, but some of it had given way to concern.

Halting my thoughts on the matter for now, I continued to my own chambers. Aerol's idea of taking a rest felt like an excellent plan to me.

I chose one of the two couches before the fireplace in the sitting room, and lay down on it to rest. It would be easier to hear a knock on the door from here, and the couch was plenty comfortable. I dozed and slipped into an easy slumber shortly after.

I woke half an hour later, but the clock on the fireplace mantelpiece chiming the hour, was not what woke me.

It was magic. Nearby magic.

At once I got to my feet, walking in the direction it was coming from. I opened the sitting room door to the hallway, and there against the wall were remnants of a spell.

A transportation spell.

Fury powered through me.

Amelia had disobeyed me! No doubt using her writing magic, despite my warning not to, and likely used it to go back Above!

Turning my wrist, I conjured a crystal and with haste pulled what magic remained into it. I watched it briefly. It swirled into the crystal like black mist. She had torn enough holes in the fabric of reality-the first of which I still had not had time to fully repair-and now as second one?!

Worse yet, I could not tell where Amelia had written herself, whether she'd caused damage to the other side, or if she, herself, had survived the ordeal of the transportation! She had done well enough the first time, but to do another spell so soon after the first… I dared not think of the consequences!

With a twist of my hand, the crystal vanished, away to my study where I could properly dispel it.

Something upon the ground sparkled up at me, and my eyes lowered to investigate. My heart sank.

It was Amelia's ring.

I felt my heart ache terribly as I crouched down before it, the feeling more painful than before. She had taken off her ring, and left it here before leaving. I had upset her so much, I knew, and she had upset me, but that she had not come to give me the ring in person spoke strongly of her resentment. As though it had been too much for her to stay any longer, too much even to speak to me.

Lifting up the ring between my fingers, I studied it. My heart ached and twisted. It conveyed to me its confusion for the situation, and I felt it acutely.

Coming to my feet, I took a steadying breath as I looked on the ring and straightened to my full height.

Clenching my jaw, I dropped the ring into my hand and curled my fist around it. "No more." I ground out. "Enough." Turning on my heel, I marched back into my chambers, and in moments I took to the sky.

I had the Above as my destination in mind.

It was time I set things right.

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A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: Enormous shout out to LovelyAmberLight for helping and brainstorming with me on this chapter. I hope you guys like it! Here's the explanation I spoke about before!

Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth.

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A Writer Required

Chapter Twenty-Nine

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Returning Above was not what I had intended to do this day. I had intended to speak to Amelia in the safety of the castle, where I knew she would be safe.

Instead I was flying down to the entrance to her home, feathers bristled in disappointment and frustrated anger.

She had disobeyed me.

After giving me her word she would not use magic without me present, she had disobeyed me, and used her magic to return here.

I was nearly to the door, when I felt a sudden and urgent wish being made by Sarah, and after a moment's hesitation, I willed myself to the wish. Amelia could wait. I let the magic of the wish transport me to where Sarah was.

It was a startlingly short trip.

I arrived, my eyes focused on her. "Sarah? What is it?" I stopped short as the familiar jasmine and strawberry scent-not unlike that of Amelia's home-caught my attention, and I processed where I was standing at the same time I spoke to her, only to find myself in Amelia's kitchen. "Are you alright?" Utterly bewildered and growing cross, I faced Sarah again. "What are you doing here?"

Sarah shook her head hurriedly, and pointed past me in fright. "I think maybe we should be asking him that!"

Him? Could it be a djinn?

Brow darkening, I turned quickly, my hand moving to conjure a crystal. But upon see the man before me, I froze, and all thought stopped.

A fae man stood at the kitchen doorway, his hand down at his side where a long sword was held, and at his knees stood two pitbull terriers, currently growling warily at me. The man wore a dark blue tunic, brown trousers and boots, all designed in such a way that marked him a fae of high rank. His long black hair was windswept, but it did not obscure his blue and green mismatched eyes.

"Marcurrelious!" I stared. "How are you here?" I rephrased the question upon remembering where, exactly, we all stood. "Why are you here?"

Sarah echoed me, a frown in her voice. "Marcurrelious?"

Marcurrelious sheathed his drawn sword, "I'm looking for Amelia." he turned his attention to the dogs at his feet. "Leona, Alto, sit."

The dogs looked up at him, then obediently settled down to sit, their tongues lolling out. They were more like massive pups.

"I came here hoping to find her." Marcurrelious explained.

I looked to Sarah, who was scowling at him before relaxing her gaze to look at me. "I had a strange feeling to come check on Amelia. But when I arrived, I realized Amelia wasn't here, and then he showed up."

I faced Marcurrelious again with a thin frown. "I think perhaps you ought to explain yourself, brother."

Sarah gaped. "Brother?"

Marcurrelious explained to us both. "I work-or, rather, worked-with Amelia." He looked to Sarah with an apologetic smile. "My name here has been Marcus." The fae man's smile thinned as he spoke more to Sarah. "My sister couldn't pronounce my name properly growing up, so I shortened it for her. It is a common enough name in this world, so I used it."

"You're Marcus? Amelia's coworker?" Sarah questioned, and Marcus nodded.

"Yes. I was not able to take my true form until recently-I'm actually of the Fae. I'm sorry I did not tell you sooner, but I didn't think I would ever change back. I thought I would die as a mortal, as Marcus." Marcus then went on, look between us. "I've been here in the Above, protecting my sister."

I stared hard at Marcurrelious, and suddenly I felt I could not breath.

His...sister?

Tasha.

The name hit me soundly.

My wife-was alive?

Hope and guilt both came suddenly upon me. Had she been alive, all this time? All this time I had believed her to be dead, could I have been out, searching? How could I possibly have known? I had seen her and Teren both dead with my own eyes! How was it possible she was alive now? What of Teren? Was he alive, as well? If so, where was he? Where was our child?

"...My father Severino placed a spell on me, suppressing my immortality and turning me mortal. I would die as mortals do, and be as vulnerable as mortals are..." Marcus went on, though I was only half heeding him now.

Who would dare take them? And how had they managed to do it?

My anger surged. She had been taken from me once, and now taken from Marcus as well.

"...I had discovered my father and his sorcerers enacting their plan. I overheard them speaking of how they would do it. I stepped in to stop them, when they caught me..."

The anger I felt for this treachery was met by confusion. I loved Tasha-I could never stop loving her. But what of Amelia? I had fallen in love her, with a mortal, only now to discover my wife was still alive. I loved them both. I loved them both so much, that the idea of losing either of them again made me feel physically ill.

"So..." Sarah held up her hand to stop Marcurrelious, bringing my attention back to them, and she pointed at him. "You're fae."

Marcus nodded. "Yes."

She went on. "Your father turned you mortal, assuming you would die a mortal death. Only, he didn't think you'd find Amelia." Sarah confirmed, and when Marcus nodded once again, she slowly placed a hand at her temple. "This is so confusing." She winced. "I might need an aspirin..."

"Just a moment." I entered the conversation, looking between them briefly before focusing on Marcurrelious. "Amelia, is your sister?"

The deserted prince grimaced in disbelief at me. "Have you really forgotten your own wife's name so quickly, Goblin King?" His jaw clenched on the title in his anger.

"No-I-" I laughed in shock, and at the same time tears welled in my eyes.

I could see his dangerous anger-but I could not withhold the sudden relief, joy, hope and elation I felt, in discovering that my wife was alive-that Amelia was alive.

"Amelia-all this time-my sweet, human Amelia…" I laughed again, and the tears fell.

Tasha-no, Amelia was alive! I had held her in my arms, I had kissed her again after years spent in mourning her death.

All along, she had been alive. These past few months, I had fallen in love with her again, spent time with her, and not even known whom she truly was!

I laughed again, shaking my head at the terrible irony, at the happiness overflowing within me.

I looked to Marcus with a joyous heart, and saw his hand had inched its way toward his sword in its sheath. He appeared at that moment to be judging the distance between myself and Sarah with distaste, as though planning to shortly expand it.

I chuckled, too overjoyed to properly reassure him. "Rest your sword arm, brother." I wiped away the tears that had spilled upon my face. "I have not lost my wits, I have found my joy." I continued. "I had not realized that Amelia and Tasha are one and the same person. All these years I had thought her dead. You've given this old fae hope again."

As my laughter faded, I thought of Amelia. About who her captors could possibly be. I could name two individuals without trouble, but to accuse them without evidence of the deed was foolish and dangerous.

Marcus's expression changed abruptly to shock. "You...how long have you known Amelia?"

"For some time now. I asked her to write my story."

Marcus stared at me. "What are the chances?..." He paused thoughtfully. "How did you come to meet her? Why ask her to write your story?"

I raised an eyebrow at him, but answered. "There were things she had written that affected the Underground. That affected me. I followed her magic, initially quite upset. But I soon discovered she had not meant to do magic. Indeed, she was quite unaware she had any such power. That's why I asked her to write my story. That I might use her magic to solve Tasha and Teren's murders, to add power to my own that I might give them justice. I had not planned to come to care for her, to fall in love with her. That happened quite unexpectedly." I thought of her previous suitor. "The prat Andrew, I think, pushed me further into a relationship with her. I did not care for him, nor did I think he deserved her."

Marcus scowled. "I felt the same. I tried to convince her to leave him, but she didn't until recently. I was so relieved, but she seemed so despondent. I don't think it had to do with Andrew, though. She became uncomfortable when he was mentioned, but when I mentioned that she seemed depressed, she'd nearly start to cry. Were her tears meant for you?"

His words fell upon me like a blow. "I...I was aware of her sorrow, as my courier mentioned she seemed unwell, but I had not believed her tears were for me. I had believed them to be for Andrew." My stomach sank. I had thought she had chosen Andrew when she went after him. Were her actions for another reason? Had she been going after him to end their courtship?

"Amelia mentioned a friend had taught her to fight. Was that you?" Marcus questioned.

I remembered the reason for her training, and replied curtly. "There was an incident-long since dealt with-and she requested that I teach her how to defend herself. She has knowledge of the sword and staff, as well as hand to hand combat."

My brother by marriage chuckled lightly. "Yeah, I noticed that, when she clobbered a djinn in the face with a window scraper." His humor faded. "It makes sense now. It was impressive but also alarming. I had no idea she had been learning. I could swear she was using magic as well..?"

"She wasn't using magic; magic was defending her. I gave her a ring that would improve our communication; but it also protected and defended her against those that meant her harm."

Marcus raised an eyebrow at me. "A ring?"

My face felt momentarily warmer, and I scowled at him in reproval. "It is a long story. One we do not have time for now."

He looked as though he wished to pursue the topic, but with the current situation, did not. "Right. So after we were attacked, the djinn vanished. I went after them but they eluded me. I returned to Amelia to find her talking to a djinn in disguise. I tried to warn her, but they grabbed her, and the two djinn from before returned and pinned me down. They realized I was cloaked in a spell, and they began draining the magic. They may have weakened it prior to it being broken." He made a face. "I would be more grateful, if they hadn't been trying to kill us. They only stopped draining me, to make me a witness to her death."

My stomach twisted. Baard had said they'd only just arrived in time.

His tone lightened again as he continued. "An army appeared, but some elf tossed me like a down pillow into the field, moving me clear of the danger." He gestured vaguely. "I missed most of what happened after. I think the elf used some magic to keep me away, because it wasn't until after the portal closed, that I was able to approach."

His mention of the portal reminded me of the crystal I had used to gather the remnants of the second portal's magic, and I questioned him. "The spell cast upon you, how exactly was it broken?"

Marcus met my eyes in question, but answered regardless. "It was broken by the remnant magic from the portal that took Amelia from our workplace."

I gave a faint chuckle at the irony, amused despite the situation.

Marcus mistook my amusement and frowned. "Did you open the portal?"

I gave him a sharp look. "Hardly. You know me better than that. I would not create such a thing. Your sister, however, without her full knowledge of magic, had managed to do it under Baard's instruction."

The fae man before me shrugged his shoulders in discomfort. "It's been a long time. We've not seen each other in years." He went on, giving me a thoughtful glance. "So that's why I could absorb the magic so easily. Family magic."

I nodded my agreement, then explained. "She came to the goblin kingdom through that portal. No one took her. She took herself. And several hundred magical creatures, as well." I added dryly, still quite displeased with her over exerting herself in such a dangerous manner.

Marcus was momentarily lost to his thoughts. "But where did she go after?"

I frowned, gesturing at the house. "I had assumed here, based on the portal magic I discovered outside my chamber doors. I had been waiting to speak to her, when I sensed the magic. I went to it, finding only her ring, and what was left of a second portal."

Sarah spoke, looking bewildered. "But if Amelia's ring was defending and protecting her-why leave it behind?"

I shifted on my feet, folding my arms in discomfort. "I had thought she was angry with me. I should have explained things sooner to her, and avoided this mess entirely."

Marcus and Sarah both exchanged a look, the latter speaking. "But she apparently isn't here-where else would she go? It seems a bit odd."

Marcus's eyes flashed with sudden urgency, and he looked to me. "What was the magic like? The magic at the second portal."

"It was similar to her own." I said. "The crystal is stored in my study, but I remember that the magic itself in form was like Amelia's, but the color was different. Her magic was white, while the other magic was black. I hadn't thought much of it at the time…" I trailed off when Marcus's face markedly paled.

Expression terribly grim and growing angry fast, Marcus met my eyes. "Severino."

I had felt anger before, but what I felt now was far stronger. "The old goat. I had thought he had given up."

"No." Marcus replied. "Not given up. When father sets his sights on something, he does not so easily give it up. He'll reorder his plan. He will likely attempt to have her married off, as he had intended to do before." Marcus scowled. "We need to move with haste before that happens. Her suitor will wish to make sure she is in good health before then, likely testing her abilities, which will give us a few days."

The room grew a little colder as my anger grew. "Then we will move with haste." I frowned severely at my wife's brother. "You have given me hope, Marcurrelious, and with it a strong desire for vengeance. Severino will pay dearly."

Despite the chill, Marcus looked relieved. "My father has need of justice, Your Majesty. Are you ready for war?"

Sarah gaped at us with wide eyes. "War? But..." She trailed off as we faced her.

Marcus spoke with reassurance. "It is our way."

Sarah's brow furrowed, and she firmly objected. "But Amelia wouldn't want that."

"Fae warfare is greatly different from that of humans." I explained, and my expression softened slightly as I faced her fully. "Gentle Sarah, I assure you, that only the guilty will suffer my wrath."

Marcus grinned, though it was more of a snarl, his eyes sparkling. "The wrath of a Goblin King will mingle with the wrath of a Deserted Prince, and shake the foundations of our world. Our enemies will know Hell, and our great tale will be told for all of eternity."

"Indeed." I replied, and with a wave of my hand, altered the portal within the kitchen doorway. It would send us to the Underground, and remain accessible to us should it need to be used again to return.

Now we would find my wife. Now, at long last, we would bring justice.

Sarah hesitated, uneasy, and I realized the thought of returning to the Underground a second time might seem frightening to her. She did not know if she would come back.

"You needn't come with us, Sarah." Marcus saw her expression as well, and he spoke gently, his eyes restraining the emotion behind them.

I raised an eyebrow at Marcus, and looked between the two. Sarah had acknowledged Marcus being Amelia's coworker, and they seemed familiar with each other. Although, Marcus's true appearance seemed to still be processing for Sarah. But the way they behaved, made me wonder. "The two of you...are you...together…?" My eyebrows raised high when both the prince and the champion gained a redder hue to their cheeks, and adopted a sudden aversion for eye contact. I found my question answered for me.

But the matter of Amelia pressed me, and I spoke on. "Perhaps the two of you should sort this out here. If you so choose, meet me beyond the portal in my study." I looked to Sarah specifically. "If you should choose to come with us, I can guarantee your safe return here to the Above, whenever you wish."

She still appeared uncertain. "And if you can't? What if something happens?"

I thought on it. "Perhaps I can give you a talisman for transportation. I believe I have one at the castle. You are welcome to have it."

Appearing more at ease, Sarah nodded.

I left the two behind to converse, and arrived alone in my study in the goblin castle. I promptly went to my desk and retrieved the two crystals of magic for comparison for Marcus.

Knowing it might be some time before one or both of them arrived, I gathered a map and the tools necessary to begin planning. Once completed, I turned my attention to Sarah's earlier concern. Giving her a talisman of transportation would be best, and something she could count on and use as needed.

I found such a talisman in my study, and tested its capabilities myself to be certain it would work as it was meant to. When I finished with it, Sarah and Marcus came into the study with the two dogs in tow through the portal. The champion and prince appeared far more at ease with one another.

The dogs seemed to have discovered that they quite liked Sarah, for they flanked her and begged for head scratches.

Their master approached me with a grim expression. "Any thoughts?"

I straightened up with the green pendant talisman in hand. "Several. But first," I caught Sarah's eye, and she came to join us. "this is for you. A transportation talisman in the form of a pendant. Should you wish to travel between our worlds at any time, simply hold the pendant in your fist, imagine where you want to go, and the pendant will take you there. It will work with more accuracy if you think of a specific person or place."

Sarah received the pendant with amazement and relief, and she put it carefully on.

I suggested she try using it to return Above to Amelia's home, and then to return here in the same manner. She did so, appearing next to Marcus when she returned.

That settled, I looked again to Marcus as he spoke. "We'll need a plan before going in, of course. I know several routes that we can use, but it's been so long…" He shook his head with a grimace. "...The routes could be closed or otherwise no longer available."

I hummed in acknowledgement, and pointed out the two crystals on the desk to him. "Have a look at those, and confirm to me which is which. As far as routes go, I intend to have Baard go in to investigate the situation as much as possible. He is well for it." I added at the end when Marcurrelious showed uncertainty. "He is the best spy I have, and a good friend. I trust him with my life."

Sarah frowned. "But what about the pendant? Couldn't we use it to find Amelia?"

I was grateful to Sarah for the thought, but had to dismiss the suggestion. "No. Unfortunately, Severino has put a barrier around his borders that keeps others from using magical forms of transportation to get in and out. Most kingdoms have similar defensive measures in place." I cast them both a steady look of determination. "We will need to find another way in."

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A/N: The wrath of a Goblin King and a Deserted Prince is what this chapter would be titled. What did you guys think of the twist?


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! ^_^ Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth.

* * *

A Writer Required

Chapter Thirty

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It was dark, at first.

I felt terribly stiff and achy-as if I'd been sitting in one position for too long. My chest where my collarbones met felt strange. It felt light, but there was a strange pain like a burning sensation. I blinked my eyes slowly.

Everything appeared like my eyes had a milky lens over them. I could see shapes and colors, but the details evaded me. Blinking, my surroundings gradually came into focus.

It was a large room.

A fireplace across from me was piled with tiny clear crystals, burning and creating a white fire that even from this distance radiated a perfect amount of heat. Beside it sat a vanity with a large mirror.

To my right against the wall was an enormous wardrobe, and both it and the vanity were beautifully crafted with carved white wood decorated with gold scrollwork.

There was a doorless balcony between them. It was small, with a glass ceiling and the upper portion above the white-possibly marble-wall railing was made of glass, like a peculiar terrarium.

A small sitting area consisting of a gold filigree table and a single chair to match occupied the majority of the space. I could see the sky outside. It was dark, with the lower portion a half shade lighter than the rest. I thought I saw stars in the sky, but it was difficult to tell for sure.

Where was I? It had been the middle of the day in the goblin kingdom, but it appeared to be near morning now. How long had I been asleep?

I licked my dry lips once, then pursed them together. Why did I feel so strange?

Looking down at myself, I stared.

No longer in the simple blue dress I'd worn in the goblin kingdom, I instead wore an elegant white gown with gold flowers and leafy vines stitched into the fabric. It was beautiful, but the fact I had not changed myself, left me feeling sick to my stomach.

Apparently wherever I was, they had no qualms about changing people's clothes without their permission or without them even being conscious. This both terrified, and enraged me.

I huffed as I forced myself to sit up, though I did so slowly when the action made me dizzy.

A golden silk duvet beneath me sparkled with tiny beads, and a diaphanous white curtain around the bed I lay on swayed when my movement forced the air around me out of place. My brow furrowed at everything as a whole, and I tried to think back to how I'd gotten here.

I had been on my way to Jareth's chambers, when that fae man I'd noticed earlier, who had been staring at me while I was a bird, came out of nowhere. He knew about my ring-or something about it, as he'd stopped me from picking it up-but how? And how had he known I was the bluebird? The blue dress I was wearing might have been a clue, but not enough for him to be sure; and he certainly sounded sure.

Had I given myself away somehow?

Regardless, that strange man figured it out and grabbed me, pulling me into a portal.

My face felt cold with anger and fear, and I lifted my hand to touch it. My hand made it as high as my collarbone when I stopped. The nails were a bit longer, making my already small hands look delicate and elegant.

My pale skin was even paler-I didn't think such a thing was possible-and I noticed a gold ring on my index finger, with the image of a jasmine blossom set into it in mother-of-pearl.

My eyes caught sight of where Jareth's crystal ring ought to have been, and I felt sick in seeing it absent.

But oddly, even though the ring was gone, the nausea and lack of peace that came with its removal, was absent. I felt normal-the way I'd felt before putting the ring on for the first time, so long ago.

As I was finishing examining my hand, I turned my head to look at the other, and a long white-blonde ringlet swept over my shoulder, grazing my thigh.

I stared at it, and then hesitantly tugged lightly at the end of the ringlet and winced as pain radiated upon my scalp at the other end. 'Ok, so definitely my hair. But how? My hair isn't at all this light, or this long.' I thought.

A rough cough to my left alerted me that I wasn't alone, and a chill fell over me.

I looked to the stranger in fright; disturbed that I hadn't noticed another person in the room with me sooner.

Standing against the wall to my left was a guard. He had coughed, and when I looked at him, his cheeks reddened as if he were embarrassed.

The sound of armor, metal against metal, pulled my attention to another guard by the double doors leading away from the room I currently occupied. He had moved from before the doors, to just beside them, and sent the guard against the wall a pointed look.

I turned my gaze back to the first guard, and when we made eye contact, he stepped along the wall and approached, making me tense, until he pulled on a narrow gold rope by the head of the bed.

Somewhere a small bell chimed, and the guard returned to where he'd been standing previously.

The double doors opened, and three more guards came in.

I swallowed and my stomach sank at the sight. What was going on? Where was I?

"Your Highness." The guard leading the other two spoke, and I recognized his accent as Italian, and the curve of his eyebrows and pointed ears declared him fae. He bowed with a strangely deferential attitude, then straightened back up. "Allow me to bid you a good morning. I trust you slept well?" He had a kind voice and countenance, but my anxiety rose at his words, turning my stomach.

Morning. How much time had passed?

My mind rewound to his first words. Had he called me..? Mentally I shook my head. I had to be hearing things.

"How long…" I trailed off. My voice sounded different. It was softer, and had a lilting quality to it that it did not normally have. Even more alarming, was the distinctly Italian accent, that definitely was not my own. I tried again, my heart beating a little faster. "How long have I been asleep?"

The guard studied me a moment, then spoke as I turned myself on the bed to lower my legs to the ground. "You arrived yesterday evening, and have slept since then."

I felt a little of the tension within me fade. It hadn't been very long, then.

"Where am I?" I questioned, and the guard that had answered me before, answered me now.

"You are in the Everlands, your highness. You've returned home."

It was those two words again. It didn't makes sense-why was he calling me that?

"What?" I asked. Stealing a breath, I shook my head. "I'm not-don't call me that. I'm from the Above-" I was beginning to feel dizzy. "-I'm Amelia-"

I cast my gaze down to the floor with the intention to stand, and saw an enormous white fur rug that was beneath and around the bed, and near my feet were a pair of golden silk low heel slippers.

I struggled to put them on, ignoring the protests of the guard I'd been speaking to, and I opened the gossamer curtain. But when I tried to stand, my legs seemed incapable, and I fell right back down again upon the bed.

He took a few steps forward as if to help me.

"I'm fine." I spoke stiffly, flinching slightly away from him.

Yet even with my words, I noticed the guard seemed unconvinced.

"I will call the healer." He said, and by his tone it did not seem up for debate. He turned to gesture at a guard behind him.

The guard bowed and left, returning a few seconds later with the healer. The healer carried with him a fairly large white medical bag.

Before I could protest the need for the healer, the man himself shooed the guards out and spoke in rapid-fire Italian. "All of you out, save Captain Arturo. I must tend to the princess."

Had the healer been in the other room this whole time? Had he been waiting until I woke up?

They obeyed without protest, closing the door behind them, and the guard I'd spoken to-apparently Captain Arturo-moved to stand before the doors and clasped his hands together, staring straight ahead at the wall across from him. He was remaining to guard me, but allowing enough privacy for the healer to do his job.

"I'm fine." I repeated in Italian, wondering if communication might be better that way with the healer. My voice sounded a little stronger this time around. "My legs are a little weak, is all."

The healer hummed in understanding, then responded. "With what you have been through, it is not surprising."

My brow furrowed as I stared at him. "With what I have been through?" I echoed in question, and he lost all color to his face, clearing his throat.

"Forgive me. It is not my place." He replied with haste, then proceeded into his work.

I realized quite quickly that he was doing the very same checks my doctor in the above had done. What exactly did that mean?

In the end it was discovered that my hands and arms were strong, but my legs were equally weak.

His checks complete, he nodded thoughtfully, seeming unconcerned now he was finished. "I have just the thing." He reached into the bag he'd brought with him and pulled out a small vial. "This will give you back your full strength and alleviate any discomfort, pain, or dizziness you are experiencing, your highness. Drink it quickly, for the taste is not pleasant."

He uncorked it, and then held it out to me.

I felt some trepidation at the clear liquid. Could I really trust these people? After they had kidnapped me? I lifted my eyes to the healer, then cast them to Captain Arturo at the doors.

They seemed genuinely concerned for my welfare-though I suspected the healer felt that way purely because it was his job to heal-even so, neither of them had acted threateningly towards me.

I hesitated, then took the vial and lifted it quickly to my lips, downing the contents.

Grimacing, I handed it back to him. It tasted like sour milk and bad fish combined, but already I felt my strength returning to me.

He helped me to stand, and the captain spoke up. "Perhaps you should rest further, my lady. I can have some food brought..." Captain Arturo trailed off when I shook my head 'no' firmly, causing a few ringleted locks of my white blonde hair to dance forward over my shoulders.

I stopped still when I saw them, my whole body tensing up and the color in my cheeks fleeing.

I still needed to find out what was going on; to find out who had taken me, and why. Waiting around wasting time would do me no good.

I needed to get out of here.

I spoke against his suggestion, my tone hardening. "No."

His concerned expression was joined by uncertainty.

"You are in perfect health, and your legs will soon be as normal." The healer chimed in to inform me, releasing my hands when it was clear I could manage. He seemed suddenly to not want to be there anymore. Gathering his things, he bowed to me, then fled the room with a strange look at Arturo.

Arturo's expression hardened at the look, then returned to normal as he brought his gaze to mine. "As you say, your highness. Would it help to walk around the room?" He asked, extending his arm to offer his hand in assistance.

One of the guards beyond the bedroom returned as the healer left. He bowed to me, "Your highness." then addressed the captain, "Captain Arturo. The King is ready." and flicked his gaze at me.

Captain Arturo nodded, and moved forward to offer me his arm. After a moment's hesitation, I took it.

"Are you certain you are well enough to walk, my lady?" Arturo asked.

I didn't immediately answer. My legs were fine, and at once my mind focused upon my situation, and anger boiled within me. Looking him dead in the eye, I replied firmly. "Yes. I'm ready."

Arturo dipped his head down in a faint nod, and his expression eased a little.

"Very well," He glanced at the guard. "Benigno, inform the king. Her Highness will be there shortly." The guard nodded to the captain, and bowed briefly to me, then left the room on swift feet.

We exited the bed chamber, coming into a sitting room, then passed through a pair of double doors to a hallway.

My legs felt better than normal by the time we had traversed several halls, and at last we reached a pair of massive double doors, and I no longer needed Arturo's arm to aid me.

He remained by my side regardless. He faced forward, but every now and then I felt it when he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.

While my legs had recovered, I still felt peculiar. My dizziness was gone, leaving only a faint pressure behind my eyes.

Two guards at the doors turned the handles and opened them for us.

Beyond was a room almost entirely in shadow. It was a long, tall hall lined with pillars, but with steps leading up on either side and at the end, to a raised area. A dark blue carpet lined with gold thread stretched the length. At the far end stood a full length silver mirror, at such an angle that it was reflecting the carpet before it.

High windows shone light down in one particular spot near the end, but the other windows were shrouded or otherwise closed, casting the rest of the room in darkness. It had a distinctly ominous feeling, and I felt it powerfully.

"Bring her forward." A voice called, sending a sudden, massive boulder of dread into my stomach.

The guards moved forward, and when I found I could not, Arturo placed a hand above my elbow and escorted me into the room.

"Take her to the mirror." The voice spoke again.

With each step nearer, the more afraid I became. The blanket of darkness beyond the mirror, did not help this fear.

The guards stopped at intervals along the hall, and I heard the doors behind me shut.

At that sound, everything in me was screaming for me to turn and run. Run away from this place. Away from these people. But more than anything, away from the man lurking in the shadows.

Arturo stayed at my side, leading me forward until I stood before the mirror. I watched him in the mirror as he then retreated a few steps, just barely visible in the shadows behind me.

With trepidation, I allowed my eyes to fall upon the face in the mirror, and my eyes widened.

That couldn't be me...could it? I turned my head slowly to the left and then to the right, taking in every detail. The one blue topaz eye, and the one peridot green eye, both bright and startling to look at. The white blonde hair that hung in loose ringlets down my back and just over my shoulders caught the light, making it look as white as untouched snow.

This woman didn't look like me. She looked like a princess. Someone beautiful and graceful-and I knew for a fact I was neither. I tripped over air and woke up each morning with a rat's nest for hair.

It wasn't the face I remembered growing up with. It couldn't be me, and yet…

...it was.

A thought came; like a memory of myself as a child-only, I was this stranger in a mirror as a child-playing in an extravagant white garden with a dark haired boy that was vaguely familiar to me, a white and gold palace seen just around the corner of the white hedges we explored.

"No!" I cried, stepping back from the mirror and escaping the memory. "It's not true!" Quieter I breathed. "It's not me!"

I heard the guards nearby step just a little closer as though they might need to restrain me.

I ignored them, my hands lifting to my face in panic, touching it lightly. "I'm Amelia. I live in a little old house," I sensed a feeling of dismissal from the darkness behind the mirror, and my anger flared.

My voice grew stronger in its conviction as I glared at that darkness. "I work at a place that helps people, and I have a family that loves me." The feeling of dismissal vanished, turning into a sense of impending reprimand that was frightening, and my breath quickened in fear.

I took a breath and repeated as the reprimand grew stronger. "My name is Amelia." Sudden, unexpected tears overwhelmed my vision. "...I'm...Amelia..." I repeated, sinking beneath the weight of my emotions.

"She is overset." The voice from before spoke, and made me jump, the reprimand fading.

I pulled my hands away from my face to look up at it. I had a feeling like I was about to be dismissed. I looked into the darkness as the voice spoke, hoping to dissuade it and keep that from happening. I needed answers!

"Place the transformative spell back upon her and let her sleep. Her mind needs time to adjust."

My heart jumped terribly, painfully hard, and my hand lowered to it as I forced myself to breath. Transformative spell?

In the darkness I saw movement, and I stepped to one side, out of the direct sunlight to better see. My eyes adjusted faster than I expected, and I caught sight of someone sitting high on a throne upon a dias. It was definitely a man by the shape of him, but he was cast mostly in shadow. To his left was another shadow, but I could not discern for certain if it was another person, or an actual shadow.

I passed my gaze through the rest of the darkness, but could see nothing like the second shadow, meaning it couldn't be caused by the pillars. It wasn't structural.

I brought my eyes back to the shadow.

There was someone standing there.

My eyes lifted back to the man on the throne. No way was I letting him make any more decisions for me. "No." I called to him, and his head turned, surprise radiating from him.

His tone turned gentle, but it was a gentleness that felt hollow. "You must rest, my little Tasha. Then your questions will be answered."

I glared up at him. "I'm not yours, and I'm not this Tasha." I retorted with firmness, and his surprise morphed into powerful disapproval. I went on regardless, determined to be heard. "I'm not in need of rest. I'm in need of answers."

There was a heavy silence, and I found myself feeling increasingly wary. Would he say nothing? At last the man replied with a chill to his voice. "You will return to your chambers and rest." His tone was dangerous. "The more you disobey me, the less I will tell you. If you are obedient, then you shall know more." He shifted in his seat as if to get comfortable. "For now, know you have returned home at my command, and you will remain here until I decide your future."

I stole a shaky breath, and fought to keep myself in check. I had a series of emotions fighting their way forward, half of which didn't feel right, and none of them particularly helpful at this moment.

He went on, and I wondered if he had sensed how I was feeling. "Your memories were altered. The aftereffects of the spell will have given you headaches, among other symptoms. The spell was designed in such a way that you believed yourself to be Amelia from the Aboveground." I could hear the sneer in his voice, but it was laced with a sort of despicable pride. He was proud of the supposed deception, and disdainful of the Above.

"But you are not." He continued, his voice gaining authority and full pride. "You are my daughter, Princess Tasha, and I your father, King Severino of the Everlands." There was not a touch of deceit or hesitation in his words. If it wasn't true, he certainly believed it to be.

My stomach sank throughout this declaration. There was no way, and yet I had this feeling…

'No!' I shook my head firmly, both to shake away the feeling, and to tell him no. There was no way. He was lying-he had to be.

In seeing this, Severino shifted upon his throne. "You do not believe me now, but you will. For the time being, the spell holding your memories will not be completely removed. You will remember small things. A little at first, then more as time goes by. You will grow to understand why."

I felt sick. There was no way. It just couldn't be possible. I had a life Above. It was my world, not this place-not the Underground!

I felt I might be ill.

There was movement on the dias, and the shadow near the throne stepped toward it, and leaned up to whisper something to Severino. After a moment, it stepped back to where it had been, and I felt the shadow's eyes on me as Severino spoke.

"Tasha." I returned my gaze to him from the shadowed stranger. "I will remove more of the spell, on the condition that you promise me that you will do as I command."

My eyes widened and I bristled, glaring in disgusted disbelief.

He had to be joking.

I cast a glare at the stranger before looking back to Severino.

There was no chance in the fiery depths of Hell, that I would take orders from him.

"No. I will not agree to that." I replied steadily.

He leaned back in his seat, cold anger like a cloud forming around him. "That is your choice."

Without moving a muscle otherwise, he barked an order.

"Take Her Highness back to her chambers. She has much to think about."

Arturo stepped forward to do so, when Severino spoke.

"Not you, Captain. I would have a word with you."

Arturo straightened up and then bowed. "My king."

Severino spoke to another guard. "Take the princess to her chambers."

One of the guards behind me to my left approached and bowed to the king, and with one armored hand, took hold of my arm just above my elbow.

"Rest well, Tasha." The king said, and waved a hand of dismissal.

The guard who had hold of me then walked me out of the throne room.

Once the doors had shut, I stopped walking, lost in thought.

"...Your Highness." My guard prompted quietly, looking uncomfortable with the force he was ordered to use. He was waiting for me to keep walking.

My eyes fell to stare pointedly at his vice-like hand.

He looked hesitant, and I raised my chin to scowl at him.

"I can find my way without help, thank you." I coolly declared.

I couldn't, actually. But he didn't know that.

His face was still occupied by an uncertain expression, and I wondered if he was new to the palace. A seasoned guard would have ignored my words and taken me directly to my chambers if those were his orders. This guard seemed a great deal more unseasoned.

"You can follow, if you feel you should." I added with false resignation. "But at least do me the courtesy of releasing my arm. I'm sure my father would hate to see me bruised." I spoke 'my father' with emphasis, and that seemed to do it.

The guard gulped and released me as though in danger of immediate death, and I started off down the hall.

It occurred to me during this exchange that much of what I'd said hadn't really sounded like me, like Amelia.

It sounded like a princess.

Was I really this Princess Tasha? It felt...wrong somehow. Wrong, but not. Tasha felt correct, but princess was wrong. Was I Tasha, but not a princess? I frowned, and became lost to my thoughts.

I could sense faint memories and knowledge trying to get in as I studied the walls I passed. It was like visiting a house you had once lived in and finding things utterly changed. Familiar, and yet unfamiliar.

"Princess!" The guard seemed to have been trying to get my attention.

I blinked back to the moment and stopped walking, looking over my shoulder to gaze in question at him.

He was standing at the junction of two hallways. The one we were in, and a new one that branched off to his left.

"It's this way, my lady." He was saying, appearing truly concerned by my lack of response.

I cast a glance the way I had been going, and wondered if my memories were already routing an escape. In which case, I needed to lose my chaperone. He'd likely hand me over to the guards stationed outside my rooms.

But how to lose him?

I thought through various ideas as I slowly turned to face him, and one stuck. "Oh. How silly of me." I wore a look of embarrassment, and clasping my hands together, I smiled lightly at him. "Forgive me, I became lost to my thoughts." I gestured smoothly at him and the hall beyond. "You must know your way around the castle quite well."

The guard's skin turned to match the red banner on the wall behind him. "Well… I don't know about that…"

My smile widened, and I waved a hand softly as though shooing away his argument. "Nonsense. Though, could you tell me what is that way?" I pointed behind me at the corridor I'd been taking.

His eyes followed its direction. "Why, to the royal gardens, Princess." He said.

An image of the white gardens from my earlier memory came to mind once again.

"Oh that's right…" I murmured to myself, then seeing his concerned frown, I smiled apologetically, my smile falling as I spoke. "I was just thinking it would be nice to take a walk in them-but I will have to wait a little while longer, yes?" My smile fell away fully into disappointment.

The guard's cheeks reddened again and he nodded, his shoulders falling before he gestured up the new corridor.

My eyes followed his gesture, and I forced a smile to dance upon my lips. "Would you show me the way? And perhaps tell me more about the palace? I'm sure you know a great deal about everything here."

Just a little bit, the guard's shoulders lifted and his chest puffed up with pride. "I suppose I could." His eyes shone with confidence. "This way, Your Highness." He turned and made his way up the corridor to the royal chambers, chattering away.

I watched him a second more, then spun round in the direction of the gardens. I walked as quietly and casually as I could. I didn't want anyone I passed getting suspicious if I were to flat out run.

But I hadn't gone down the corridor long, when I heard the thundering of a set of steel feet behind me.

I looked round in dismay, just in time to see my chaperone lightly huffing and puffing into sight.

Upon seeing me, he sped up and shouted. "Stop!"

He might as well have shouted, "Go!" to my ears. Because that was all I heard.

Quick as I could, I bolted down the corridor and around a corner, nearly knocking over a maid bearing a tray of food, spilling the contents. "Sorry!" I burst out, but I didn't catch her reply if she made one.

I did, however, catch my guard behind me shouting expletives when he slipped on whatever had spilled, and he went down with an impressive crash.

I went up another corridor as though by instinct, and found two guards were at a set of double doors. Something in my heart shouted triumph, while the more prominent part of me shouted alarm about the two new guards.

But I realized a moment later that one was flirting with another maid, and had leaned his crystal spear on the wall behind him by the door, his back to me. The other guard was dozing in the corner by the doors, unaware of anything.

This scene was oddly familiar to me. Had I seen it before?

Much scrambling behind me reminded me of my pursuer.

Seeing the spear, I dashed past the guard and his maid, snatched up the crystal spear, and shoved open one of the doors. I just stopped a yelp when my shoes slipped on the dew laden grass, but I had to stop there anyway.

I heard the thundering feet and shout of my guard as I was shutting the door.

"NO! STOP! STOP HER!" He shouted lastly at the other guards.

I didn't see what happened next.

I shoved the door shut, and slid the spear through the crescent shaped handles. Hard as I could, I drove the spearhead into the grass below, making it impossible for them to be opened.

Taking off my shoes, I threw them to my left, still in sight of the doors, but looking as though I were headed in that direction.

I hoped it would help in slowing them down, but I didn't put too much faith in it. That done, I faced the white flower garden.

It was massive; bigger than I had expected.

The moon made everything in the garden glow, but the bright sphere was getting lower, and the sky opposite was becoming lighter.

A bang on the door and shouting from my guard to the others to get my father made my heart jump fearfully, and I moved.

Gathering the front of my skirts in my hands, I sprang barefoot into action.

I ran past a small fountain with a compass at the top, pointing my way for me.

South.

A way out was to the south. An image of a hidden hole in a hedge at the edge of the garden came to mind, as well as a thick stone wall behind the hedge, where I could use both to climb over the wall.

I felt momentarily dizzy when the thought came into my mind abruptly, and I stumbled into a decorative stone vase.

It tumbled off the pedestal it rested on, falling into the bush beside it. Luckily it was cushioned by the foliage, and did not break and make a terrible noise as I had feared.

I ran onward.

Weaving past short shrubs and squeezing between statues and ornamental flowered bushes, I ran as fast as I could through the garden, letting my mind follow the route it held.

I dashed recklessly through a large, circular but shallow water fountain, ignoring the yelps of the early morning gardeners filling buckets there when I fled past them. I surged out of the water, over its short ledge.

Shortly I passed a brief maze of tall hedges and fruit trees trained to grow sideways like a tall fence.

I stepped between the trees and the hedges, cutting the time it would have normally taken me down to a fraction.

Beyond I saw the hedge, and just barely seen above it, the wall.

My heart soared with relief and hope.

Soon I would be free!

As I was running, I gathered more of my skirt up in front of me in two handfuls and tied a knot to keep it out of my way.

It took a bit of searching to find the hole, but eventually I found it. It had grown downward closer to the ground-lower than my memory remembered it being-but I managed to squeeze between it and the muddy garden floor, covering my chest and the entire front of my dress in mud.

Climbing through the hole, I looked for a way to climb up while wiping my muddy hands on my dress.

The way presented itself in the form of the hedge's own thick branches. I stepped up onto a branch at the back of the hedge, tested my weight, and pressed my hands to the stone wall.

Then, I began a slow, cautious climb.

The sky had gotten lighter, and I could see the sun's rays shining up into the sky to my left.

I moved faster.

A voice below made me freeze, though, and I held my breath.

"Search along the wall and keep your eyes open. She's quick and quiet, so stay alert." It was Arturo, the captain of the guard.

Moving with more care, I made it to the top, and slipped up onto the wall. I laid there, letting the bitter wind and warm morning sunlight hit me for a moment, then I took a deep breath and rolled off the wall.

I realized too late, that I didn't actually know what was on the other side. Before I could really start to panic, I hit the ground with a thud, exhaled violently, and rolled down over tall grass.

I glimpsed the edge of the hill like a cliff, as I was rolling down, and unsettlingly far below it, I saw a glittering lake.

Beyond the lake was a white shore half covered in golden sunshine and a large, thick forest.

I wondered if my supposed old self was just a little bit insane, but the confidence I felt in this escape route was powerful, and before I could decide otherwise and stop myself, I was falling off the edge.

I took in a deep breath, and was swallowed by the lake.

It was pitch black.

This felt familiar, and I had the thought that last time was slightly different. Like I'd been wounded somehow.

The need for oxygen propelled me up to the lake's surface, and once there, I tread water. Swimming was something I could do easily in the Above, and for a short moment I was comfortable and confident in myself.

My memories moved me, and I began quietly swimming away from the island castle.

I could see the shore some distance away, but I was getting tired. The weight of the dress was an issue, and when that fact became clear, I stopped swimming and floated on my back and began unlacing it.

I stripped it off, in nothing now but my undergarments. I really didn't have a plan beyond this, and my memories were silent about it.

Maybe this had just been a theory before? I felt a little nervous with that thought.

I hated not knowing, but I was pressed for time. How long would it be before they searched the lake, then the shore beyond it?

Trying not to think about why my memories were drawing a blank on that, I resolved to make the swim as quickly as possible.

I faced the shore once more, and swam.

I was exhausted before I came near to the beach. I floated on my back at intervals to regain some strength, and then continued. By the time I reached the lake beach, my muscles were burning in protest, and I realized that the little potion the healer had given me was the only reason I had made the swim.

I spotted a part of the shore that was rocks instead of sand, and I rested in the water next to it a moment, then began to climb up them to avoid leaving lasting footprints. A grassy outcropping above it offered a good place to catch my breath.

I climbed onto the grass and crawled forward among the heavily leafed trees there, grateful for the cold shade. It'd keep me hidden for a little while.

When I regained a decent amount of my strength back, I sat up, then came unsteadily to my feet.

Out on the water, I could see several boats all with the same crest on the sides, searching the lake. They hadn't made it to the surrounding beaches, then.

I felt a little thrill of victory, and a relieved grin fell upon my lips.

But as soon as it graced my features, I felt an odd sense of urgency, and my grin began to fade.

That blank part of my memories was trying to get my attention. I put the lake behind me and began toward the trees, focusing on my memories.

Being thus distracted, I ran directly into someone.

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A/N: Thanks for reading!


	31. Chapter 31

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you like this chapter!

Edit: There was an error I forgot to fix, which was pointed out to me by: thevoiceslockedaway, so thank you! I have now fixed it. Carry on!

Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth.

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A Writer Required

Chapter Thirty-One

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Startled, my head jerked up in alarm.

For the first time since I'd become Amelia, I came truly face to face with my father. No ominous shadows between us, and no guards listening in.

Just me.

Just him.

He had peridot green eyes, and long ebony hair that reached easily to his shoulder blades. His cheekbones were high, leading up to his pointed ears, and otherwise enhancing his sharp features. He was taller than me by several inches, and made taller by the fury in his gaze.

I took a step back, concerned that he might hit me.

The thought came that he wouldn't dare, and I felt oddly certain he wouldn't, but he really did look terribly mad.

His pale face was flushed, his eyes narrowed. "I was willing to give you a chance to redeem yourself-"

I panicked.

Swinging my arm back, I thrust it forward and punched him full in the face, effectively cutting him off.

He snarled as I shoved him away.

I made a dash past him, my heart beating fearfully, driving me further into the trees. I'd gotten maybe ten steps, when I felt magic floating in the air directly behind me, and my arm was snatched by his hand, jerking me to a halt.

"Enough, child!" He hissed. "You've tried my patience long enough! No more escape attempts-no more tricks!" He pulled me over to him until we were facing each other. "On my part there will be no more leniency. You will be restricted to certain areas of the palace, and always to be accompanied by a guard."

My father conjured a thick, ridiculously oversized cover for me, designed with three quarter sleeves to allow my arms free of its confines, but outwardly it gave the appearance that I wasn't currently next to naked.

He led me with a hand on my arm, out onto a different beach where a longboat was waiting, and a far bigger ship beyond it sat anchored on the lake.

I stopped suddenly before we reached the longboat, before we reached unwanted ears. "I'll never stop. But you know that, don't you?"

He slowed to a halt, keeping his gaze fixed on the boat.

The lake waves and the breeze filled the silence we'd created.

My hair was a dripping wavy mess, little wisps tickling the edges of my face in wildly curly white strands, glowing in the morning light as they dried.

He turned to look at me.

I was sure I looked awful, but he did not seem to think the same when his eyes landed upon me.

There was frustration and anger, but beyond them something else. He gazed at me, like he was seeing something that was delicate and beautiful that might easily break.

It was an expression that turned my stomach sickly in growing horror.

He studied me like I was a prized mare to be fed, raised, and bred, not a daughter to be cherished and loved.

He didn't care, not really.

I could see it now-could see it in his expression.

A series of thoughts came to my mind. Love from him was a farce. An illusion to content me as a child. But I had a feeling that even then, I knew something was not quite right.

I had a glimpse of a memory of the look in his eyes that differed from his proud smile when I accomplished something, or the laugh that felt forced when I amused him.

He was pacifying me. Keeping me content like a pig he was fattening before the inevitable slaughter.

I couldn't help thinking of the difference between Severino, and my father in the Above.

My father Above had been kind, funny, and caring, even doing things for me without telling me, things that let me know he cared.

It made my heart ache to think about it now, but the feeling shrank away into dread when this man before me looked at me.

He softened his gaze, though the emotion-or lack thereof-was still present.

I wondered briefly if he hadn't sold his own soul to a djinn.

He stepped closer to me and I tensed, half expecting a blow to follow his approach. Despite what memories I held as Tasha, I wouldn't put it past him to strike me.

His voice was quiet and succinct in its bluntness. "I know. Which is why I'm going to change many things." His eyes narrowed, the softness gone. "Your life, Little Tasha, is taking a different path than what you may have expected."

He muttered more to himself than to me. "Different than I had planned."

Before I could question him, he tugged on my lower arm and began again toward the boat.

Louder he spoke to me, and those by the long boat looked up. "Things will be different, I can promise you that. You'll just have to get used to it."

Panic hit me. I wouldn't be getting used to anything! I looked around to see which part of the forest was closest to me. An outcropping of trees and grass directly behind me or towards the lake seemed my best options.

Judging the distance, I turned to look at Severino and studied his back, looking for a weak point. I settled for the back of his knee.

Timing it, I suddenly sped up and kicked the back of his knee as hard as I could.

Severino shouted and fell forward, releasing me to try to catch himself.

My panic spurred me, and I sprinted back to the forest as soon as I was free of his hold. I heard the oarsmen shout in alarm and their footsteps on the sand as I assumed they ran to the king.

I kept running, going toward the darkest part of the forest. I heard Severino barking orders at the oarsmen, and shortly after the sound of someone running through the undergrowth after me.

Fear-fueled adrenaline pushed me to move faster.

I stumbled against a tree and pushed off of it to keep going. I'd forgotten how much my legs were aching, and I was remembering it in full force now. I had to hide somewhere, but I didn't have a lot of options.

I noticed a cluster of trees ahead. 'Maybe-' My desperate thought was cut short as I was tackled from behind, a pair of burly arms wrapping around my waist.

I fell with a shout, just before being crushed to the ground beneath one of the large oarsmen. I felt like I'd been tackled by a mountain.

The wind knocked out of me, I gasped for breath while the man who caught me went to his knees at my side.

Still holding onto me, he lifted me until I was resting back against his chest, and I looked around, dazed.

From the trees a voice shouted in Italian. "Brendan, did you catch her?!" A second pair of feet announced his arrival, and the man staggered to a shocked halt.

"Princess Tasha?"

In seeing his ship mate's reaction, the man who tackled me exuded alarm and shifted me in his arms so that he could better see my face.

A stunned silence fell between the two of them.

I peered up at them. They were breathing quietly, clearly used to moving quick, but disbelief and shock had enveloped them.

The man holding me paled with sudden fear. "Didn't you die?…" He trailed off, and the second one opened his mouth to speak, when Severino emerged from the trees behind him.

He was breathing a little heavier than the others.

I'd have smirked if I could have breathed properly, myself.

"Princess Tasha has returned to us. That is all you need know." His eyes sharpened on me. "Carry her to the boat. She seems to have trouble making the trip there herself."

"No!" I protested, though it came out in a fit of coughing.

Severino's expression darkened. "Or I could carry you myself, if you prefer."

I tensed and shook my head in the negative, and Brendan's breath grazed the side of my face as he looked at me, alarmed by my fear. His arm remained as it was, though his countenance exuded concern.

Severino nodded, satisfied by my silence. "Very well. No more delays." He glanced at Brendan. "Bring her."

Brendan nodded hurriedly, "Yes, Sire," and put one arm beneath my knees and one behind my shoulders, then lifted me into his arms before coming to his feet.

I put my arms around his neck loosely, and tensed when I locked eyes with Severino.

He fixed me with a warning scowl for an instant, then led the way back to the beach.

We made it to the longboat, and Brendan carefully placed me at the bow of the boat facing Severino, when Severino himself sat near the front.

I glared at the king, but he seemed unperturbed by it, indeed his eyes were focused on the ship in the distance.

The two oarsmen behind him exchanged wary glances, and they looked between me and my captor. Then at a word from their king, they pushed the boat into the water, and climbed aboard.

I kept my eyes fixed on the lake where the sun made it shine. I had no idea what Severino had in store for me, but I wished fervently that somehow, I'd be able to escape-really escape.

'Wish!' My eyes grew the tiniest amount bigger in realization.

Would it work?

I sent a steely look at the king.

He was still focused on the ship not far away, ignoring me.

It was worth a shot. Fixing my stoney gaze on his face, I spoke with power and anger-fueled authority.

"I really wish the goblins would take you away, right now!"

Nothing happened.

Aside from a deadly silence from the king, and shocked silence from the oarsmen, nothing happened.

In what felt like slow motion, the man before me turned his now wide-eyed gaze from the boat, to me. Absolute rage had filled them, but he himself did not vanish as I had expected, and Jareth did not appear, as I had hoped.

"You…" He hissed.

I hadn't expected it. My memories as Tasha had no experience of it. And because of that, it hurt twice as much.

In one smooth swing, his hand went back, and then sang forward through the air, slapping me soundly across the face.

I hadn't recognized what was about to happen until it was too late to avoid it.

The force of it turned my head, and I nearly lost my seat to the boat floor.

The men behind him both gasped, and even the king himself appeared almost stunned by his actions.

"Tasha! I'm-I'm sorry-" He began as I took a slow, deep breath, and regained my posture.

"Save it." I quietly spoke, my words heavy with ice. "You're a heartless, beastly coward, and you'll get what you deserve in the end."

If he was stunned before, it was nothing to the look on his face now.

I turned my head away, staring at the lake without really seeing it. I realized belatedly that he would be able to see the cheek he'd struck, that it might anger him. But I was too frightened and stubborn to move, and too angry to care about his feelings. He had not cared for mine; caring for his would do me no good.

I felt his eyes on me nearly the whole way to the ship, and even though he never said a word, his gaze weighed me down like a sickness. My supposed father, the disease. It was acutely fitting.

On the way to the ship, I found myself wondering why the wishing spell hadn't worked. It had worked before when Jack was assaulting me, so why hadn't it worked this time? Could Jareth not answer me here? Did something hold him back?

Fear tightened my throat, making it difficult to breathe. An ache formed in my chest as I thought about Jareth, and my eyes watered from more than just the stinging pain on my face as another thought hit me.

What if he was refusing to come?

We arrived at the ship sooner than I thought we would, and I felt some nausea as an alarming thought came to mind. The thought, that I was returning to Hell.

I was sent up after Brendan, and the expressions of the crew went from shocked, to confused, and then at last they became hopeful. I offered them a timid smile. They seemed to recognize me, though I didn't know them.

The ship's crew went abruptly to quiet indifference towards me and stood at attention when my father boarded and came upon the deck behind me.

I felt his eyes on me again and stiffened, looking off to my left as if the main mast was suddenly very interesting.

There was an air about him as if he were contemplating speaking to me, but in the next instant it was gone.

Instead he barked orders to raise the longboat and the anchor, then to set sail for the island. The captain immediately echoed him, adding various remarks I was familiar with from reading, but at the moment didn't really care to fully register.

I was too busy subtly studying the ship for possible escape routes.

The king was like a dark cloud hanging over the ship, and I could tell that everyone felt it. He told me I would be allowed to stay on deck, provided I had a guard with me.

I lasted maybe half a second before I issued a biting reply. "I don't plan on jumping into the lake a second time. Though if I did, I think the lake would make a better parent than you."

The expressions of the crew and soldiers nearby, made me realize I may have made a mistake.

The king marching me to the captain's quarters himself, his face red in fury, confirmed it. "You'll remain here until we dock." He hissed. "I'm disappointed in you, Tasha."

"I'm sure you'll get over it." I retorted, and the captain's door shut with a slam. "Maiale!" I spat aloud in Italian instinctively. I blinked in surprise at myself, then shook my head in bemusement.

I'd called Severino a pig, though I doubted very much he had heard me. I felt silly afterwards in even bothering to speak, and sat myself down in the captain's cabin chair. The poor captain hadn't even been asked if I could stay here. But then, he probably wasn't likely to complain, considering it was his own king that put me in here. The ship probably belonged to my father, anyway.

I made a face, mentally correcting myself. 'No. Not 'Father.' Severino. He doesn't deserve the title.' That thought settling itself in my mind, I took a shaky breath and focused on my present situation.

I cast my gaze around the room.

Half of the walls on the sides of the ship were occupied by large, small paned windows constructed of very thick glass.

So escape that way was impossible.

The majority of the back wall of the ship was a long window, the same design as the other two. A surprisingly wide box bed with drawers beneath it occupied the corner where the ship's back and left walls met. Lanterns hung at intervals around the cabin, and one hung down from the ceiling at the center.

I sat in one of two chairs placed on either side of a large desk.

The desk sat just to my right, and had various drawers in it and a candle in a holder on top. I realized that there might just be paper and something to write with inside. Maybe enough for me to write a way out of here?

I felt hope ignite in my heart, and I turned the chair I was sitting in to face the desk, and started rummaging carefully through the first drawer. It was a good thought, because inside that top drawer was a small stack of parchment sheets.

Beside the parchment lay a quill pen and a small stoppered ink bottle. Unstopping the ink bottle, I set it to one side on the desk and moved to pull both a sheet of parchment out. I paused, however, when a feeling hit me. Something was going to happen. Almost without thinking, I removed a single sheet of paper and quickly stood and went to the captain's bed. One of the drawers was unlocked, and I slipped the piece of parchment in among whatever lay inside. I felt odd in doing it, but the feeling persisted that this was the right course of action.

Putting this thought to the side, I returned to the desk and set another sheet of paper on it and closed the drawer. My chest felt peculiar, and I sucked in a breath to steady myself, then dipped the quill in the ink and wrote. "A portal my size to the goblin courtyard before the castle stairs appeared before me." I spoke it as soon as it was written. It may not have been well written, but that was hardly important.

With each word, I felt the magic building and forming, looking like white mist-my magic, I realized-and it stretched up and to the sides to form a portal. I stood from my seat, moving around the desk just as the stairs came into focus. My heartbeat picked up its pace, and I hurried forward.

But as soon as I reached the portal, the door to the cabin burst open, and Severino was rushing toward me, his expression livid and consuming his whole countenance.

The blood drained from my face, and I jumped forward toward the portal, that I might escape the madman. I was not fast enough.

Severino, with dogged determination and terrible anger, wrapped an arm around my waist just as my head and shoulders passed through the portal into the goblin courtyard, and started to lift me up off of my feet.

My heart nearly jumped into my throat and I threw back an elbow to hit Severino in the face to make him release me. "NO!" I shouted at him. "LET ME GO!" Instead he ignored me, and to my dismay and great terror, he grabbed hold of that elbow with his other hand, and pulled me further back. Turning my eyes to the castle doors in growing panic, I screamed. "JARETH!"

But by now Severino had had a firm hold of me, and with greater strength than I thought him capable, he lifted me cleanly off of my feet. He then turned back to the cabin and tossed me onto the captain's bed.

Severino was already at the portal by the time I scrambled up onto my hands and knees on the bed to try for it again. He waved his hand at the portal in a curt, furious gesture, and the portal swirled together, the magic beginning to dissipate.

My shoulders started to fall, when my eyes caught sight of the quill and ink, still there beside the parchment I'd written my spell upon. Quietly I began to climb down from the bed, but the old wood betrayed me in squeaking, and Severino heard it.

He turned, and we made eye contact for an instant, then I ran for the desk. But Severino, having the advantage of his magic not needing to be spoken or written, waved his hand once more, this time at the desk.

The drawers of the desk rattled then stilled, and the parchment, quill, and inkwell I'd used, vanished, leaving a bare desk. As an afterthought, he gestured as well at the candle on the desk, and it, too, vanished.

I stopped short behind the desk chair as this happened, feeling more winded than I ought to have, due to using magic.

He lowered his hand as his eyes raised to meet mine once more. They were cold as ice. "That was a terribly foolish thing to do, my Tasha." He cast his eyes over me briefly as though assessing for damages, and in perceiving none, he went on. "He cannot save you, and I warn you that should you try such a thing again, I will not be so lenient." He flicked his eyes at the desk. "You are forbidden from using writing materials. There is nothing left within that may tempt you to continue such foolishness."

His eyes lifted once more to meet mine with a harsh cruelty. "So kindly endeavor to behave yourself." With that said, he turned from me and marched out the cabin door, shutting the door tight behind him.

I stared after him. I had been so close to escape. I had felt the cool air of the goblin kingdom on my face. A brief touch of freedom, was all it was in the end.

Tears stung my eyes as my stomach twisted, but I dashed them away with a swipe of my hand over my eyes. This was no time for tears. If I couldn't escape using my magic, how could I get out of here? Or perhaps I could write a note to Jareth, that he might know where I am and could send aid? I did not know how I would get it to him, but I had to try.

I listened for, and waited until the king's footsteps went along the cabin, then up the staircase to where the captain likely was at, or near, the tiller. When his steps seemed to have settled, I retrieved the sheet of parchment I'd stashed in the captain's drawer of his bed, and returned to my seat at the desk. I began perusing them, hoping despite Severino's words, that I might be able to find something that could help me.

The lantern light of the cabin reflected off of something long and silver within the last drawer I searched. It was a compass, but it was what was beneath it that made hope come back into my heart. "The ship's charts!" I breathed, sitting up and moving the compass off of the charts.

Well, it was some of the charts. I knew the captain would likely have some with him above on the deck. So would the chart I need be here? And could I find my way to the Labyrinth myself by using it?

The boat creaked above me as heavy footsteps walked overhead, and I froze.

I watched after them to determine their direction, and when I discovered they weren't headed to the stairs, but to the right side of the ship, I felt a sense of relief, chased immediately by a powerful foreboding.

I leaned to one side to peer out the window and saw another ship, roughly the same size as this one, in the distance. Its colors were different from the gold and white ships belonging to the king. Instead this ship had black and white colors, and I wondered if it was a ship from another land. Its flag was black, with a single line of white going through it-but this meant nothing to me.

I put it to the side in my mind for now and hurried to continue perusing the maps.

Maybe I could find out what country it was coming from, and maybe they could help? Something about that thought seemed unlikely, and my stomach sank at the memory of the ship's colors. I pushed it out of my mind for now and returned to my task.

In searching, I found a chart of the king's homeland. It turned out it was truly an island, a very large one. It was surrounded by the lake I'd jumped into earlier, and it was fed by a river to the north. The lake then let out into a river to the south west, that ended where an ocean began.

I could read some of the words written on the map, but based on what I'd seen of the landscape, it seemed a safe bet that I had a decent idea of where I was.

I set that map aside to study later, and looked for a bigger one. I hadn't seen the Labyrinth anywhere nearby, but I had an odd feeling it was further south.

At last I found a map that held the whole world's continents. My eyes were drawn to the east, where a wide river traveled that way and then northward to another body of water, where at the far end a country was marked. At the edge of the water was a black castle, and beneath it sat the name of the kingdom.

Erisend.

The name sent a shiver of dread down my spine, but I could not say why. My eyes traveled lower than the name, and fell upon a flag. The same flag, as the flag on the ship I had earlier seen. Definitely not a local, then.

I turned my thoughts and my attention from it, and moved them both south from where I currently was. My eyes passed over an ocean, and landed on the next continent. Further south still, past a mountain range, came a desert like land.

There at the center was the unmistakable image of the Labyrinth, as simply a circle and a mess of maze lines. I couldn't read the name beneath it. I checked over the rest of the map briefly to be sure I wasn't mistaken, but it was the only place like it.

I studied the distance, and the trade routes already marked by the good captain. It was a really, really long way to the Labyrinth from here. 'Three days or so.' The thought came unbidden. I acknowledged it warily, then brought my attention back to the map.

"How do I even get there?" I breathed in apprehension. I'd have to take a ship and a very long horseback ride. I remembered the sheet of parchment upon the desk, and set it atop the map. Looking between the sheet of parchment and the map, I got to thinking.

I could trace the outline of the continents, the Labyrinth, and key trade routes to get there onto the piece of paper. But how? I had no quill and no ink. I thought of the candle, to use it's wax, until I remembered Severino had taken that, as well.

Then it hit me.

'The compass!' I thought, and picked it up, only to hesitate.

I was thinking of writing on the parchment, just in a way as to indent the paper. It'd only be visible at an angle and in the right light, and I could smear something over it to make the lines stand out better later. But the chances of the lines all being deep enough to remain visible was uncertain.

My heart sank. I had no other…

The compass shining in my hand gave me pause.

'What if…' I made a face.

It would be painful, but at this point, what choice did I have?

Pushing the shoulder of the cloak and my undergarment beneath it down, I exposed my bare shoulder. Picking up the compass and separating its two legs, I lifted one end to my shoulder and hesitated. I cast my gaze to the paper. Could I split it in two and write a note to Jareth besides the map?

Putting the compass down, I folded the paper in half one way, unfolded it, then folded it the opposite direction. I did this twice, and like an envelope, I lightly licked the folded end before unfolding it and folding it the other way and licking the other side of the fold.

The parchment by now was more malleable. Unfolding it, I lined up the fold with the edge of the table and pulled gently on the end until the sheet broke in half. Satisfied, I picked up the compass once more.

Taking a deep breath, I pressed the sharp point into my shoulder, breaking the skin there. Immediately a bead of blood appeared and coated the compass tip like ink on a quill.

Quickly but carefully I began sketching the map on the first half sheet of parchment. It was rough, both for me and for the sketch, but it worked. I kept the lines light, which helped.

My shoulder was aching some by the time I finished, but the pain was worth it, and the map turned out well. I put the original map away in its drawer about where I'd found it in the pile of charts, then set my own map to the side to dry. I pulled the second piece of parchment close and took a breath.

Now to write to Jareth. I needed to be quick, and write the main points of the situation.

'Jareth, from Amelia. In Underground. Fae King Severino says I'm his daughter Tasha. He says he had spells put on me, but took most away. Don't know his plans. Please send someone you trust to help me escape.'

There was so much more I wanted to say-so much I wanted to tell him. There was only room enough for the most important thing I wanted to tell him. I knew it was wrong, that he was getting married, but if I would never see him again, I had to tell him the truth or else lose the chance forever.

'I love you.' I wrote, and my heart warmed and ached at once.

I signed below with my name.

My vision had become blurry as I thought of Jareth, and I blinked rapidly to clear my tears away. Unfortunately one fell, landing on the parchment, and I hurried to wipe away the ones falling onto my cheeks to keep them from following its example. Taking a deep breath, I looked over what I'd written.

I noticed, too late to fix it, that the tail of the 'a' at the end of my name had just barely touched where the teardrop had landed. Half absorbed into the paper already, the tear had expanded and met with the 'a', pulling the blood that made up part of my name into the tear, where it mixed to make a perfect, pale red circle.

I sniffed, dismayed, and resigned myself to it. It was written, at least. That was what mattered.

The cabin had become a little darker, and I noticed with a sick stomach that we were pulling alongside the palace now, towards the sun-touched side of the island.

I remembered the other ship, and looked in the opposite direction of the island. My eyes immediately spotted the ship, and widened terribly.

The ship was much bigger than it had initially appeared. Nearly three times the size of Severino's. It cast a long shadow before it like a black blade. I felt immensely uneasy in seeing it. A feeling hit me that caused me to feel ill. Had it been out looking for me, too?

My shoulder was now throbbing, and I tore a small piece of the parchment off of the map and stuck it over my self inflicted wound. The fresh blood kept it in place, and I carefully replaced my garment and cloak, then eased back into the chair with an exhale of relief. It was done. For a moment, I would relax, and think more on the next part of my plan.

My respite was short.

Above me I heard the heavy steps of Severino, going toward the back of the ship, toward the larger one behind us.

I heard his muffled voice speaking to the captain, heard the name 'Tasha' mentioned, and I knew I had better clean up.

My hand holding the compass jerked as I came in a hurry to my feet, dropping two more drops of blood onto the page. "Crap!" I hissed. Wiping the blood still on the compass on the inside of my dark cloak, I made sure the tool was clean and put it back with the charts.

As I did this I kept an ear on the deck above, in case anyone was about to come in. I folded my now dried map and tucked it into the waistband of my undergarments, praying it would stay put.

I gave up on trying to fix the letter. There wasn't much I could do for it. I picked it up, and the bigger blood droplets started to run down the length of the page.

Above, the king's threatening footsteps marched toward the staircase.

My heart jumped nastily, and as he was descending the stairs, I was trying desperately to fold the letter.

I barely managed to fold it and tuck it into my undergarment top when the doorknob turned. I clasped my hands in front of me, really just to make sure the map didn't fall on the ground, and I looked with a stony gaze at the door.

It was the king, as expected. He raised an eyebrow at me in question as I stood there. "Is the seat not comfortable?"

"I was tired of sitting." I stated, then looked out the back window. "There's more to see this way, anyway."

He did not reply, and when I turned to him, I found him appraising my appearance with distaste.

"This will not do." He said to himself, and closing the door behind him, the king took two steps further into the cabin, his eyes still on me. "Turn." He ordered, gesturing for me to turn in a circle.

I scowled at him in incredulity.

Seeing the look, he returned the scowl and explained. "It's time you were dressed. I'll not have my daughter appearing like a drowned rat when we arrive. Now. Turn." He ordered, and after a second's hesitation, I did as he said.

When I stopped turning, my entire outfit was changed-but that was the least of it.

I felt like I'd been doused with warm water, scrubbed clean, rinsed, dried, had lotion, perfume, and makeup applied, and put into clean clothes by the time it took me to turn full circle.

I shuddered in horror, feeling terribly violated, and nausea thundered through me.

"There." The king praised his own handiwork with a pleased smile, and I wished so much that he was closer so I could punch him.

His face where I'd hit him before wasn't even bruised. Had he healed himself at some point? Or was my blow really that ineffective?

"Have a look. Princess Tasha of the Everlands." He gestured behind me with a wave of his hand, and that same feeling earlier I'd had-that feeling the title 'princess' was wrong-struck me again. But the feeling of magic gathering and forming into something behind me, made me turn in a hurry, expecting something bad.

Instead I turned to see a full length mirror leaning against the wall. A mirror that had not previously been there. It took me a moment to register the sight before me. Seeing a face that wasn't mine move like mine was unsettling, to say the least. I stepped closer, despite myself.

My white blonde hair was curled to perfection, going over and behind my shoulders until it reached my waist. The cloak was gone, in its place I wore a white dress with golden accents and floral stitching.

Jasmine blossoms seemed the theme, which was unfortunate. Jasmine blossoms were my favorite; and he'd gone and tainted them. He'd ruined something pure. I tried not to think on it, instead turning my attention to the rest of my appearance.

The makeup was light, accenting the natural beauty, and applied in such a way that my mismatched blue and green eyes were beautifully framed. The perfume I wore seemed to be jasmine scented as well, with a hint of peppermint and chamomile.

A fact I found unsettling when recalling how my own perfume Above was the same, save for the sweet scent of strawberries.

I found this odd, until the image of the Labyrinth entered my mind, and a wild garden with strawberries grew in the castle garden. I came back to the present abruptly, feeling dizzy and heartsick.

I focused again on the outfit to negate the dizziness I'd just experienced, and bit my tongue to stop the tears from forming.

A gold chain with tiny diamond teardrops was draped across my forehead and I could feel it continue down the back of my head in layers, and while I wore no necklaces, my wrists were not spared from a thick golden band each, set with precious stones.

My pointed ears, too, were adorned with very life-like vines of gold, set with tiny diamond jasmine blossoms. Gold silk shoes peeked out from under the hem of my dress, speckled with tiny diamonds, and as a whole, I had to admit I looked beautiful.

But I remembered something the king said, and my eyes flew to his face in the mirror. "The Everlands?" I remembered, now, him mentioning it before when we met in the throne room.

The king came up to the desk, and sitting on the edge of it, he folded his arms and legs and watched me closely. He offered a nod, unfazed. "The greatest of the kingdoms in the Underground."

"The greatest?" I echoed him dryly, my eyes narrowing in disbelief. His arrogance was astonishing.

He replied at once, firm and unyielding in this argument, as if it were irrefutable. "Yes."

My stomach turned at his tone. "To you, I'm sure it is." I replied.

A heavy silence filled the cabin, and I peered down at my shoes in the mirror.

Had he ever once been kind? Did something happen to him that made him this way? He was so ruthless and cold, like he didn't really care about anything or anyone. But no one is born that way; so what happened to him?

I took a deep, silent breath. "Have you always been like this?" I didn't mean it unkindly, I was just asking. I turned to face him fully, my expression sincere.

His eyes sharpened and he scowled, moving to stand. "Tasha..." He began, and I hurried to speak.

"I didn't mean it unkindly."

His eyebrows lifted slightly as though in surprise, though the scowl on his face remained.

I felt my heart pick up speed in uncertainty. "Just… Just humor me." I placed my hands on the back of the chair I'd sat in earlier, my thumbnail running across the wooden back.

He appraised me, contemplating both my question and his answer.

A call from the main deck sounded, and the king leaned away from the desk. He waved a hand at the mirror and it vanished.

Panic pushed me, and I hurried to speak. "Please! Won't you tell me anything?" I questioned, beginning to feel like communicating with him was pointless.

A knock at the cabin door sounded and he went to it. Placing his hand on the doorknob, he raised an eyebrow pointedly at me. "Why tell you what you already know?" He opened the door before I could reply, and a young man stood there, nearly dancing on anxious toes. "Yes?"

He bowed quickly. "My Lord, we're about to put in." The young man informed.

The king hummed. "I see." He glanced at me, excusing himself. "Tasha. I will return for you shortly."

"Then you will answer me?" I called, but he was already stepping out, and the door shut without a reply from him. I attempted to steady my breathing as my anxiety rose. "Unbelievable. He can't even have a full conversation." My stomach twisted sickly, and I tried unsuccessfully to put it from my mind.

I walked to the large window, peering out at what I could see. I could see part of the island's port through the left window, and the earlier massive ship through the right. Directly behind our ship, the water shone in the morning sun, sparkling cheerfully up at me. It was free, and I found I envied it.

I remembered then the note and map I'd made, and I turned my back to the door in case Severino returned.

I retrieved them, relieved they hadn't vanished.

The sleeves of my dress were long and close to the skin, and I realized I could fit the parchment into my sleeves if they were folded a certain way. The thick bracelets helped as well-as they were more like manacles in their wide design, fitting quite snug around my wrists.

I put my map up my right sleeve, just over the inside of my wrist, and the letter to Jareth up my left sleeve in the same place. I could slip the letter into my hand easily if needed. I'd want to find hiding places for both the map and letter later, and having them be accessible to me would make that easier.

I checked my shoulder where I'd placed the scrap of paper to stop the bleeding, and was relieved to see it, too, was still in place, and the blood had not seeped through the paper.

I was studying my sleeves again to be sure they properly covered the folded parchment, when there was a knock on the door. I froze, then dropped my arms and clasped my hands together, my wrists turned towards myself.

I faced the door as a boy, maybe sixteen years old, entered timidly into the cabin holding a tray of fruit, bread, cheese, and possibly water.

His eyes sought me out, and finding me, his face reddened. He moved a few steps more into the room and spoke. "Some food for you, your highness."

I realized in hearing him speak, that I would have to get used to speaking Italian all the time again.

I cast my gaze over the tray. "Did the king tell you to bring it for me?" I asked. I felt bad for asking afterwards, the poor boy was trembling. Was I frightening to him?

He kept looking back at the cabin door, and understanding dawned on me. The king had probably scared the poor boy half to death.

I glared briefly at the door, then softened my gaze as I let it fall back to the young man.

"Yes-Yes, Miss." He stuttered.

My first reaction would have been to send it away; but knowing the king, he might take out my refusal on the boy. I smiled warmly instead, then gestured at the desk. "You can set it here."

The boy's shoulders fell in relief. He set the tray down and stood by awkwardly.

I realized belatedly that I was meant to dismiss him. I was about to, when I noticed he was eyeing an apple on the tray. "Are you hungry?"

He flushed and started to shake his head 'no', when I continued. "You're welcome to eat whatever you like. I doubt very much I can eat all of this myself." I smiled lightly, then nodded at the tray. "Really, it's alright."

He shook his head again, and I picked up the apple he'd had his eye on. Stepping around the desk, I placed the apple in his hand.

He stared at me in surprise.

"There. Now you can't get in trouble." I smiled lightly. Severino couldn't punish the boy if I gave it to him.

He hesitated, then pocketed it instead of eating it, and gave a grateful bow. "Thank you your highness."

I smiled, but it fell slightly when one of the sailors called from the deck.

The boy apologized to me and excused himself. "I have to return to the galley."

"Of course." I nodded, and he scurried from the room, closing the door behind him.

After he left I ate a little of everything, but drank most of the water. I was relatively full now, but tired. Especially after my failed teleportation spell.

We arrived roughly a half hour later at the Everlands' dock. But the king only retrieved me from the Captain's cabin, close to fifteen minutes after the ship had safely docked.

Once the movement of the sailors had slowed down considerably from having finished their tasks, Severino brought me topside with a firm hand around my upper arm. I suspected the wait, and his grip, were to keep me from slipping away. A ship's busy crew would've had a harder time keeping track of anything but their duties.

It was smart of him, unfortunately.

I was discovering that fact the longer I was around him. He was no fool, and I was learning he would be difficult to trick.

After I had been thinking on this, Severino surprised me by speaking quietly. "Enough scheming. Perhaps instead you should enjoy the generous view of the morning, while you can." The ominous way he said it, made me suddenly wary, and I felt my face drain of color.

He had somehow guessed my thoughts. But how could he? Was I really so easy to read? That thought unsettled me more than I cared to think about.

The sun had gotten higher, showing that more than an hour had passed by since my escape.

I descended the walkway from the ship, finding myself standing with three soldiers, but the third was told by Severino to go call for his carriage, and the guard did it with haste.

A murmur went up in the crowded docks that the king had arrived, and the word 'Princess' was tossed around among it with disbelief and curiosity, and even a little hope.

I cast my eyes around at the dock, studying it and the people that had started to stare. My eyes caught sight of a small cloaked boy who pushed his way to the front. It was odd, but he seemed familiar. The child's eyes widened at the same time I recognized him.

It was Baard!

He eyed me shrewdly, and before I could do anything, the king's hand tightened around my arm. I averted my gaze from Baard and brought it up to the king. His own were focused past my head, locked on Baard with recognition in his eyes.

Fear and concern for the elf lanced through me.

The king's eyes returned to me before he turned to address the people that had gathered, and a chill road up my spine at the look in his eyes. What was he going to do?

I brought my attention back to Baard, and when I was sure he was looking at me, I casually clasped my hands behind my back. Raising my eyebrows at him, I flicked my eyes down towards my hands and looked back at him.

His own eyes lowered to my hands, and I pulled the end of my letter out of my sleeve enough that he might see it. Baard's eyes widened in understanding, and I tucked it away again. We made eye contact once more and I mouthed 'For Jareth'. The elf's eyes lit up with comprehension, but the king speaking brought our silent conversation to a halt.

He held up a hand, and those nearby that were watching, stilled or slowed in what they were doing. In a loud, commanding voice, Severino decreed. "I hereby decree, that all those of Labyrinthian decent are forthwith and forever banished from my kingdom. Any Labyrinthian remaining within my realm after thirteen hours will forfeit his property, his magic, his freedom, and possibly his life."

I gaped in horror at him. He was cutting off any connection I could have with Jareth! Worse yet-Severino was destroying people's lives in order to keep me prisoner! And why the thirteen hour time limit? Was it mandatory by law? Or was he showing some small measure of mercy?

The uproar that followed his words carried like a wave through the citizens. Horrified at his declaration, parts of the crowd responded with gasps and frightened murmuring, threaded by angry chatter.

My eyes immediately returned to Baard in a panic, and when our eyes met, he inclined his head up at the palace, then mouthed, 'later!'.

I nodded faintly to show I understood.

Just then the king's carriage pulled up before me and the king, effectively cutting off the protesting citizens. Severino took a firmer hold of me as a footman descended from the carriage to open the door. The king raised an imperious eyebrow at me, pushing me forward by my arm.

Fear and anger surged through me, the latter strong in my tone as I loudly snapped at him. "These people have lives and livelihoods here, Severino! You can't just make them move!" I concealed a wince behind the glare I aimed at him as his hand tightened painfully around my arm.

He continued walking me to the carriage, unaffected. "But perhaps I should expect such cruelty from a cowardly tyrant like yourself!" The venom in my words was potent, meant to inflict harm.

Severino sent me a sharp scowl in warning, his grip tightening enough to bruise. "I can change the thirteen hours to three, if you feel it is unfair."

Horrified, I shook my head 'no'.

Holding the door open wider so I could pass by him into the carriage, he ground out. "Then get in." His threat in mind, I did as he said with reluctance, and he released me to turn to say something to the footmen.

While he did, I noticed there was another door on the opposite side of the carriage. Subtly I tried to open it. The handle moved, making hope blossom in my chest, but it shrank away when I pushed on the door and it didn't budge.

Locked. And no way to unlock it that I could see. The shade was drawn, and seemed to be fixed in place, as well.

The carriage shifted with additional weight, and the king entered. I eased back awkwardly into my seat, in the furthest corner I could be from him.

He glanced at me, seeing where I was situated. He put himself in the opposite corner of the carriage, probably recognizing my desire to be as far from him as possible. "That door is locked, in case you were thinking of attempting another escape."

My eyes flit to him in surprise, but he had rested his chin on his fisted hand and was staring out his uncovered carriage window. "I know you, Tasha. You might not believe it, but I know you."

He knocked on the carriage's ceiling and called, "Drive on!" and the carriage jerked into motion.

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A/N: Well, now we know where Amelia gets her smarts. Too bad it's from a massive jerk/tyrant/other not nice words. *ahem* I mean, please review and let me know what you think!


	32. Chapter 32

A/N: Love this chapter! Please read and review!

Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth.

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A Writer Required

Chapter Thirty-Two

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By the time we returned to the castle, a thick wall of silence had set up between myself and the king. I refused to speak further with him, and only thought about the trade chart map I had copied from the captain's sea charts.

The captain seemed a good man, but I needed my good man. I went a little red in the face at that thought. He wasn't my good man. He was Aerol's. I bit on the tip of my tongue at the emotions threatening to surface, and shoved them back down in order to focus. I would have to use the captain's chart if I was going to plan another escape.

I knew little of this world, but I knew money spoke where cultures and languages failed. If I could get my hands on some, or else something valuable enough, I might be able to bribe a smaller ship's captain-or even possibly the captain I'd met today?

'Though a ship that size would be easy to spot, and I couldn't be certain of his loyalty. I'd need something smaller with speed and stealth.' I thought.

I was silent the entire time I was led into the sitting room of my chambers, and I flinched away from Severino when he moved to take my chin in his hand. He turned my head to the side before I could speak, examining the red mark he'd made on my face.

He muttered under his breath, and a cold feeling like an arctic breeze swept across the mark, making me wince before the pain lessened. "There. It will heal fully by midday, now." He said, really to himself as he released me.

"Of course." I began with false cheerfulness, bristling. "You can't have your prized mare showing signs of being abused, now can you? A buyer wouldn't like that."

His eyes grew dark in anger as he hissed. "Be silent or I'll give you another to match!"

I obeyed, but it was obedience born out of contempt, not devotion. He was ruthless and cruel, and nothing like a father should be. I wanted to say as much to him, but he didn't give me the opportunity.

"You will be retrieved later to join me in the dining hall for dinner at the sixth hour precisely. I expect you to be ready." He warned. He must have read the defiance in my eyes, for his own narrowed. "Any contrary behavior will result in the removal of privileges, and a guard will then be posted with you at all times, including within your bedchambers."

I gaped, and my cheeks flushed in protest at the horrifying realization that a guard would have to watch me change. This place really was a prison! And any hopes of keeping my secret map and letter secret would be in danger of being dashed entirely.

"Am I perfectly understood?"

I swallowed my anxiety, and forced a stiff nod. I didn't trust my tongue to speak without fear accompanying it.

Satisfied, he left me, shutting the door behind him.

My shoulders sagged with relief, and as short lived as the feeling was, I was grateful to finally be alone. His presence was stifling.

By now I was exhausted, but by no means was I giving up on trying to find a way out. It was proper morning outside now, and the light came in from the terraced balcony of the sitting room of my chambers. It made the white marble floor look like pure sunlight, and the golden veins in the stone sparkled up at me like the surface of tiny rivers when I walked. It was beautiful, but a bit much.

There was a long covered terrace with thick glass walls and a ceiling of the same thick glass on either side of the fireplace, the same as it was built in my bed chambers, but the terrace did not appear to go behind the fireplace.

Beyond the terrace was a glittering city and the docks, and further still the lake. I could see everything from the terrace; it felt like a taunt from the king. I could see my freedom, but I couldn't touch it. I couldn't have it.

My freedom didn't belong to me anymore.

"No." I breathed, my throat tightening and my eyes blurring with tears.

I blinked them away and set my mouth in determination. I would fight. It wasn't hopeless. If this Tasha could escape, then so could I. I would escape. Maybe not today, but I would do it. I would find a way.

I thought of my escape attempt in the lake, which reminded me that I needed to change clothes, ASAP. The dress I wore was beautiful, but the fact and manner in which Severino had forced it on me, turned it into a vile creation.

I undressed in my bedchambers, and in doing so found a spot to hide my map and letter, inside one of the doors of the wardrobe. I'd bumped part of the carved decorative gold scrollwork, which shifted slightly, and when I pushed it further, it rotated on a loose nail to the side and revealed a small empty space in the door. Just big enough for my folded parchment.

I worried about the note and map slipping to the bottom out of reach, but a feel around the inside assured me they had nowhere to go. I put both inside, then replaced the gold design. They were safely concealed.

I stepped into the bathing chamber to bath before changing, but the tub would not fill, nor the tap, and some of the cupboards were locked. I returned to my bed chambers in annoyance, and settled on finding a change of clothes instead.

I was looking through the wardrobe when a thought occurred. Everything within was from this world. I wanted to continue the statement. Closing the wardrobe doors, I spoke to it directly, hoping it would behave as the wardrobe in the nanny's chambers at Jareth's castle had. "I would like clothes in the style worn in the Above, please." I heard fabric shifting inside, and when the sound stopped, I opened the wardrobe.

The wardrobe worked to accommodate me, but all it could come up with were pants, shirts, and jackets meant to be worn for horseback riding. My heart sank. They weren't bad, just not what I'd been hoping for. "Thanks for trying." I murmured to it. Eventually I picked a pair of sage green pants, a pale gold blouse, and a pair of dark green half-calf boots.

It was while looking in the vanity for some kind of elastic for my hair, and only finding a variety of hair pins, that I came across the solution to my money problem. In opening the side drawers, I found them to be filled with jewelry.

They ranged from rose gold to silver, some with, and some without precious stones, and all had a great many different designs. They easily had to be worth thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of dollars in my world.

These could be my way out of here.

I chose a particularly gaudy ruby encrusted gold brooch and several other jewel-heavy pieces, and put them together in the center drawer to find later when I needed them.

I spent a little while watching the ships in the harbor, trying to get an idea of which ship I could pay to take me away from here. I'd need to watch them over the next few days to get an idea of what their purpose was. I had no idea at the moment of what their routes were.

But as I was thinking on this, I realized most ships of that kind took closer to months to complete routes.

My stomach sank.

I had no intention of staying here that long. I'd have to find out more about the ships a different way, or else find another way out of this horrible place.

I had returned to the sitting room by midday when a knock at the door reached me, and my heart gave a nasty jump, my hands flying up to it. "Who is it?" I questioned. The stony silence on the other side was answer enough, and I dropped my hands to my sides.

The king.

He was about as articulate and warm as an iceberg. He didn't even have to speak. The ice in his soul was so thick I could feel it starting to build on the double doors as if he were staring them down. He probably was.

I felt some relief in knowing I had hidden the map and note. With this relief, my sarcasm returned, and I called. "I don't usually make a habit of talking to icebergs."

The king's frosty tone on the other side of the doors was expected. "Very amusing. Open the doors."

I smirked, then replied, layering an innocent tone into my words as I faced the doors fully and clasped my hands behind my back. "I'm sorry, my real father Above taught me I should never open the door to strangers."

"Tasha…" He warned. "Open this door now, or I will. And be aware that if I do, I will restrict you to your rooms for a week."

I paled. I really didn't want that. If I was going to plan a successful escape, I needed to know as much about the palace as possible; and I couldn't very well do that from inside these rooms. I needed to be able to see the layout.

"Just a moment." I hurried over and grasped one of the door handles.

The air on the other side of the door had turned almost smug. I glared at the door. That arrogant jerk! I was almost tempted to change my mind, but I needed to be able to move as freely as possible to get an idea of how I would escape this place for good.

Grimacing, I gripped the door handle and cleared my expression to one of cool disdain, then opened the door.

It was the king and three guards behind him. As I had felt, the king's expression was mildly smug, and I glared. "So? What do you want?" I coldly demanded.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Open the doors fully. I won't have a conversation with my daughter in a doorway."

I had a few things to say about that. Like how I wasn't his daughter and he was insane, or how he could just leave, or better yet let me leave.

Seeing those last two options were unlikely to happen, I grudgingly relented, opening the other door and standing to the side. "Fine. But your guards stay outside." I said as they were starting into the room.

The king looked round at me with frigid reproval. "Do not presume you have any power here. I will lock you in the tower dungeon if I see fit." He sent a meaningful look at his guards. "They do as I say, and they will be accompanying me into these chambers." I made a face at this, but dropped it as the guards followed him in. Only one of them was not in armor, and he was the last to enter the room.

He took hold of the door my hand was resting on, startling me from watching the king making himself comfortable on one of the chaise lounges. I looked round and met the gaze of a tall fae man with long red hair tied back in an intricate braid, with dark caramel eyes on a pale face. He wore a dark grey tunic and grey leggings tucked into black boots.

He smiled at me, and I noticed his canines were pointed-more pronounced than a usual fae's. Was he a vampire? My face drained of color.

His smile turned into a grin.

My throat tightened. If he wasn't a vampire, he was doing nothing to convince me of it.

The guard's grin fell, and he raised an eyebrow at me, pointedly glancing at my hand.

I released the door handle as though it had sprouted two inch thorns, and his eyebrow lowered back into place in amusement as he shut the doors.

Leisurely he stationed himself before them both and crossed his arms.

I pursed my lips together in consternation, and Severino spoke from his seat. "Sit down, Tasha. We have much to speak about."

I bristled at his order and scowled at him. "I'm content standing." I walked away from the doors, stopping between and just before the two chaise lounges. The two remaining guards stood behind each seat. He had another thing coming if he thought I was going to sit with him.

Severino hummed, and twirling his hand in the air, he conjured a wine glass, and another wave of it filled it with a burgundy colored liquid that I assumed to be wine.

I flinched at the dark residual magic that shortly vanished, my hands fisting until the knuckles turned white. He lifted an eyebrow, "I see." and he sipped the wine, at ease.

I bit my tongue. I could understand why Tasha wanted out before, but the longer I got to know Severino, the more I realized how little I understood. He was controlling to the point of driving one to insanity.

I took a quiet breath, "You said we had much to talk about." and when he nodded, I moved slowly to sit on the seat across from him, not realizing I was doing as he had commanded previously.

"So what do we have to talk about?" I questioned, resigned. The sooner he left, the better.

Severino didn't immediately answer. His eyes studied my face, and I clenched my jaw in frustration. He was insufferable even in silence.

At length he sighed. "I came to invite you to the midday meal. I imagine you are hungry after your...adventure. The food you ate on the ship is unlikely to be enough to sustain you for long."

I clenched my jaw, staring hard at him. 'Adventure!' I fought down a sneer. "I'm not hungry." I tore my eyes from him to gaze upon the fireplace. "I have a headache. It's probably best I get some sleep."

Severino raised an eyebrow. "I could call my healer if it is that bad." He lifted a hand as though to tell a guard to do so.

I declined in a hurry, returning my gaze to him. "That's not necessary. I just need to sleep a while." I continued with raised eyebrows. "I would like to bathe before I sleep; it helps with a headache. But before that, I would like to know what it was you wanted to talk about."

The king watched me with an unreadable expression, then he lowered his hand, ignoring my last statement. "I will send your ladies maids in to you that you might bathe. Then as you said, it is best you get some rest."

I stared at him in disbelief, but he went on.

"Ring the bell if you change your mind about the healer. We will talk more later tonight." He stood, using his free hand to wave it over his glass, and it disappeared. "Bear in mind, dinner is at six precisely." He put strong emphasis on his next words. "I expect you to be there."

My eyes flit up to his and we held eye contact for a moment, but I didn't otherwise offer a response.

He hardly seemed to need one.

I turned my gaze away, looking out the terrace window. I heard their steps retreat into the hallway, but when I didn't hear the doors close, I turned to see why.

The third guard was standing there, watching me with a strange look on his face, his hands on the door handles. "What?" I questioned in discomfort, and he closed the doors behind him and folded his arms, leaning back on them once more.

I felt panic creeping in when he didn't leave with the king. "You're welcome to leave." I spoke with emphasis.

He shrugged his shoulders, blinking slowly. "As welcome as that thought is, the king has ordered me to stay with you at all times. He told me in case you tried to dismiss me, I was to remind you of the words spoken on the beach." Unfolding his arms, he gestured widely with both hands at the room. "So here I am. Your unwilling private guard. My name, as you didn't ask, is Canis." He folded his arms once more.

My lips twisted in annoyance. Of course. Severino's promise. "Fine, Canis. I'm going to my chambers."

Canis hummed but otherwise didn't respond.

I went to my room, turning around to shut the doors. I feared Canis would try to accompany me, but when I saw him again, he had only stepped further into the sitting room. He raised an eyebrow at me in question, but lowered it as I began shutting the doors.

Once I was alone, I paced the room for a while, thinking. I really had no intention of sleeping. I just wanted to be alone. I allowed myself a cry when my anxiety continued to mount. It was ok to cry so long as Severino didn't see. I didn't want him thinking he had broken me. Because I wasn't broken-I was furious.

A short time after the king left, there was a knock on the door. I tensed and exchanged a steadying breath. "Who is it?" I called.

"Your ladies maids have arrived, your highness." Replied Canis. "They wish to enter."

A bath at last! A measure of relief fell upon me. "Enter." I called.

Canis entered first, and shortly after three ladies maids followed. The three curtsied and the first smiled widely at me as if she knew me well. "Your Highness."

Canis said something to the first maid that I didn't catch, then glanced at me. The first maid spoke. "Forgive me, your highness, but I hear you will not be attending the midday meal with the king?"

My lips pressed together thin at the mention of the king in an expression of distaste, and the maid nodded as though I'd spoken. "Very well, my lady. We shall assist you in bathing, then see to your meal." She nodded at my new guard, and he bowed with mild sardonic humor to me, and excused himself to the sitting room.

"I will have the ladies bring your favorite meal once you have bathed." The woman said, and as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she gestured at the two younger maids, and they hurried from the room into the bathing chamber.

I didn't reply, and instead went and sat down on the bed. It occurred to me that I didn't know her or the other maid's names, and I addressed her. "What is your name?"

The maid blinked at me as though she couldn't quite believe her ears, and her forehead wrinkled with hurt and confusion for an instant before she seemed to remember something, and her expression then eased into kindness. "I beg your pardon?"

I repeated myself, and her eyebrows rose. "I am called Maride, princess."

I made a face. "Don't call me that. My name is Amelia. I'm not a princess." But even as I said my name, a wrongness hit me, like it wasn't right. I felt antsy and uncomfortable at the feeling, wishing for fresh air and open space. I felt too claustrophobic here.

But in thinking of this, I remembered the situation of the bathing room, and looked to Maride. "I tried to bathe earlier myself, but there seems to be something wrong with the room." I trailed off as Maride nodded knowingly.

"Yes. His Majesty ordered it so." Her expression told me there was more to the matter, but she could not elaborate. She continued. "If you will follow me, I will assist you in undressing, then afterwards you might choose your preferred fragrances for your bathing products."

I followed as she began that way, but stopped when she spoke to the wardrobe before retrieving a white robe from within it, then lay it across the bed. With practiced hands, Maride assisted me in undressing, moving deftly and with a deferential countenance, then assisted me into the robe.

In the bathing chambers the two ladies maids had begun to fill the sunken bathtub, meanwhile gathering different products contained in crystal decanters and golden tins from the once locked cupboards. They let me smell each, that I might be able to decide which to use.

It was a plethora of scents. Jasmine, rose, amber, mint, chamomile, and strawberry. I chose jasmine and strawberry, and shortly the room was filled with the combined scents. They allowed me to wash my face free of the makeup the king had magically applied, when I explained to Maride that was what I wanted to do. The entire act of bathing and changing my clothes was a statement. I wasn't going to allow him to make my choices for me, when I could help it.

The maids bathed me, making quick work of the task, and allowing me to wash particular areas myself. When finished, one of them opened a tiny six by eight window to allow the steam of the bath to escape. In seeing this, I wondered if the mirror had become foggy from the steam; but in glimpsing the mirror, I was dismayed to see that it was entirely clear. I had hoped that I might somehow be able to use it to write a spell-but it was not possible.

Once out of the water, Maride send one maid off to have my meal prepared, and she and the other maid dried me and applied powders and perfumes in rose and chamomile scents. It was while this was going on, that I noticed an inch long, flat white scar on my stomach as it caught the light, and I wondered at it. I hadn't had it before in the Above. So where had it come from?

I noticed Maride had seen the scar as well, and her face lost its color when her eyes landed upon it. For an instant, she looked as though she might be ill, but just as quickly as the expression was there, she became aware of my gaze upon her, and it was gone. Though her paleness remained until we returned to my chambers, and she began to help me into new clothes. Once the scar was covered, she seemed a little easier, and her color gradually returned.

I was dressed in a dark blue velvet dress, decorated with tiny white pearls and silver embroidery. It was comfortable, and one of the most beautiful dresses I had ever worn. Maride dried my hair, the comb she used being infused with magic that managed to dry my hair into ringlets with each stroke, and she let it remain down at my request.

The maid whom had been sent to retrieve my meal, returned at that time, and I looked to Maride, addressing her. "Is it possible for me to eat outside the palace?" For I was feeling once more that claustrophobia I'd felt before.

Understanding lit her features. "Of course, my lady. It is a little brisk outside at the moment. Allow me to fetch you a cloak." She did so with swift steps, going to the wardrobe, and returned shortly after with a thick, pale blue velvet hooded cloak that complimented the deeper blue of my dress. It was lined on the inside with white fur, and overall quite comfortable and beautiful.

Maride insisted on helping me to put it on, and I was glad in the end, when I saw how involved it was. It turned out the cloak was more of a dress than a coat. It had openings and thick peculiar puffy white over-sleeves for my arms, and buttons and ribbons that, had I been left to my own devices, I wouldn't have been able to put together properly.

"Follow me, please." Maride said, and once she had spoken to Canis, we left my rooms with him in tow.

Maride turned down a handful of corridors, and eventually we passed through a small dining parlor towards a pair of glass french doors. "The moonflowers are likely still bloomed. You always loved them." Maride said with a fond smile.

The moonflowers, as it turned out, were similar to the moonflowers of the Above. The ones climbing the castle wall and railings of the outdoor sitting area, however, were pale blue blossoms that gave off an iridescent glow all their own. They had a lovely fragrance, almost heavy even in such an open area. A table and comfortable chairs were placed at the center of one end of a terrace overlooking a portion of the garden.

The maids set my lunch upon the table there. It consisted of hot rolls and chicken, and some kind of white cheese, an assortment of fruit that included honeydew, and lastly a pot of peppermint tea. There was also a strange sort of small fruit that looked like brussel sprouts, though it was silvery blue in color, wrapped within pearly leaves, and shimmered in the sunlight.

Maride must have seen my perplexed expression, for she explained what they were. "We call them moondrops. They glow during the night, and in the day they look iridescent like the moon, which gives them their name." She smiled sadly. "We didn't have them until over the last twenty years or so. I believe they originate from the goblin kingdom. They are difficult to grow even under the best of circumstances anywhere else, but I have heard they grow quite well there."

My heart ached at the mention of the goblin kingdom, and a voice interjected. "There will be no more talk of that place. Am I understood?" Both Maride and I looked to the speaker.

It was Canis.

I'd forgotten about him. He'd been quiet until now and had kept his distance. I threw a scowl at him, and to my annoyance, he caught it mid-stride as he stepped closer to us.

"Go find somewhere else to lurk." I ordered.

Canis ignored my order, and moved to lean against a vine covered railing across from me. He pouted as though hurt, then went on in a more serious tone. "As much as I would love to be out of your company, Princess, may I remind you that I have been ordered by His Majesty to be a part of your personal guard. He's decided to rearrange a few things since your last escape attempt."

My stomach sank, but I tried not to let my dismay show on my face. I filled it instead with the contempt and disgust I felt for him. "Then at least get out of my sight." My glower was ineffective, but he leaned away from the railing to comply.

"As you wish. However, bear in mind that I am near." It was a clear warning.

I didn't dignify it with a response, and Canis wandered off out of sight, I assumed to secure the perimeter.

I watched the area where he vanished, and sat back in my seat.

The rest of the day passed slowly and without another meeting with Severino. I stayed in the garden as long as I could, wandering it and sitting at intervals when my legs reminded me I'd just recently swam across a lake and used a good dose of magic. But more than anything, I thought of Jareth and how I might get away from this place.

Maride remained at my side, occasionally remarking on the plants and flowers we passed. She seemed determined to keep astride with me, and ordered one maid to follow us, and the other to remain by the stairs to the palace. I could not understand this, but I put it from my mind to focus on the flowers.

When evening came, I reluctantly went inside at Canis's prompting, and Maride helped me change into a clean dress, as the hem of the cloak and dress I had worn had become covered with dust from the garden paths.

I then had a quiet dinner with Severino, in which I refused to speak to him or even look at him, despite his offer to talk with me. The last time he had offered to "talk" or "discuss" or "answer questions", he failed to do any. I felt his eyes on me at intervals, but I ignored him.

After the meal was finished, I was escorted back to my chambers where Maride assisted in dressing me for the night and left as I climbed into bed. Though I remained sitting up, lost in thought. The sun had vanished, leaving the moon to take its place in the sky.

I hadn't been in bed long when the moonlight drew my attention. It flowed brightly into the room through the glass of the terrarium balcony. I'd always loved moonlight; loved how soothing it was. I got out of bed and walked to the balcony, the moonlight covering me fully from head to toe.

It was like stepping into a cool embrace, and the light flowed upon me with a gentleness I found incredibly comforting. I felt disinclined to return to bed once I'd stepped into its light. It was comforting, and I hadn't felt an ounce of comfort since arriving here.

I only moved from its light-with great reluctance-to retrieve a blanket and large pillows to make a warm sitting place in the corner of the balcony, and I leaned back against the wall and a pillow to absorb as much of the light as I could.

Within seconds I felt peaceful, wrapped in its light, and without realizing it, I slipped away into a deep sleep.

"You can't keep treating her this way. She's going mad! Father!" I heard a familiar voice grow angry, and I blinked my eyes open, looking down sleepily upon the garden.

I was curled up on the chair in the corner of the balcony, and my stomach hurt as though I'd been…

"Do you even hear me? She will go insane if you continue to keep her locked up!" I could see two men standing, arguing in the moonlit garden.

It was father and my brother Marcurrelious. Or Marcus, as I had called him as a child. He was trying to convince father of something.

My older brother's voice softened. "Let me take her to the mountain cabin. She will have the space needed to heal, and the mountain spring's air has healing properties. She will heal in mind and body, and be better for it." He insisted, then stepped forward to speak quietly. I could not hear what he said, but it seemed to turn my father's mind into favor with Marcus.

A silence answered him at first, then at last Severino faced him. "Very well. But guards will accompany you."

I could see Marcus making a face from where I sat. We both knew that meant seven to fourteen guards. "It would be better if there were not so many. She will feel as she does here, and the trip will do her no good at all."

Our father frowned. "Four guards, then."

Marcus shook his head. "It's too conspicuous. Noblemen have four, and are targeted more often by thieves and highwaymen." He thought a moment then went on. "One guard is enough. It would look like any middle class man's coach-especially if we use a simpler coach like they have-if there is just the one guard sitting by the driver. No one would know she's inside. No one would even think it. She'd be safe." He added as an afterthought. "And if we go now, it will insure our safe travel further, as no one else will know we are planning on going."

Severino mulled over this idea for some time. At length, he nodded to Marcurrelious. "You will oversee the preparations."

Marcus looked to be fighting down a grin, and instead he gave a short bow. "Yes, father. Thank you. We will leave once ready."

Severino dismissed him with a wave of his hand, and I watched Marcus disappear from the garden, while father wandered on. I turned away from the window, not wishing to see him, but still wanting to stay in the moonlight.

An hour passed before Marcus knocked once on my bed chamber doors and called, "Sir Goober!"-his rather cheeky sign and 'code' it was him.

I called back my 'code' reply. "Turnip!" I could hear him chuckle through the doors as he entered and closed them behind him. His grin at me faded slightly to see me huddled up in the corner under the moon.

The moonlight reminded me of our mother, and gave comfort like she had. People said she was born fully grown from the sea under a full moon, that our father fell in love immediately upon setting eyes on her.

I wondered if it wasn't rather her magical, mysterious origin, and not her kindness and ability to love anyone, that he had 'fallen in love' with.

"Tuuurnip." Marcus called gently as he approached, seeing I had slipped away from the present.

I smiled lightly at him. "I heard." I gestured faintly with a finger at the garden to avoid discussing why I had been traversing the past, by indicating the present. "The cabin?"

Marcus had called for Maride, who helped pack some of my things. Then he carried me himself while the guard he'd chosen carried my bag. Marcus sang silly songs quietly while the coach was being loaded, making me smile. He kindly avoided making me laugh, knowing it would hurt. We were off even before the moon had reached its highest point.

The trip was spent mostly listening to Marcus as we sat side by side, our feet extended across the small coach to the seat adjacent in a way our father would have found offensive. I leaned against Marcus's shoulder and dozed now and then as he talked. Eventually he fell silent, but it was spent alert, giving the appearance of being relaxed.

After a time, faint wind chimes sounded above us, waking me from a dozing state. Marcus smiled. "We're here."

"Race you there?" I quipped half-heartedly, as we had as children.

Marcus sent me an affronted look. "And have you beat me? Never!" He grinned, then opened the coach door and turned back to me, saying. "Well, up we go, Turnip." Lifting me with care into his arms, Marcus got down from the coach, ignoring my quiet protests that I could walk.

"I know you can." He spoke cheerfully as though I were a child. "But it's easier to keep track of you if I just carry you." There was a slight edge to his voice, a tension, and he flicked a grim glance down at me before continuing to the cabin.

The man taking care of the cabin was waiting outside, and opened the door for us when we approached. He looked upon me with alarm for an instant, before remembering his place and clearing his expression. "All is well inside, my lord." He bowed as we approached.

"Good man, Antonius." Marcus replied, tapping his boots out of habit on the doorframe outside the cabin to knock the dirt off. He stepped inside afterwards, and we were nearly bowled over by two very large, very enthusiastic, white pitbull terriers.

They circled Marcus, half hopping up to catch a sniff of me, when they froze and began promptly crying, walking in place and moving with even more enthusiasm.

"Easy." Marcus warned them. "Leona, Alto, sitting room." When neither dog obeyed, he sighed and carefully maneuvered past them. "It's like I haven't spent hours training them to be well mannered dogs." He stated with mildly sarcastic exasperation.

"I will have the bags brought in and sorted, my lord prince." Antonius called after him, and Marcus nodded back at him before continuing through the small kitchen to the sitting room.

Setting me down upon the couch near the fireplace, he laid a blanket across my lap, and Alto sat beside my feet, whining faintly and eyeing the place next to me on the couch.

I smiled lightly, then patted the space.

His tongue lolling out, Alto climbed carefully up beside me and extended his head out to carefully smell my stomach. He whined again, looking at me, and my eyes lost a little of their light.

"I'll be fine." I stated, petting Alto's head. I wished I wouldn't be, though. I wished my attempt had been successful. These thoughts brought back my sorrow in full force, and tears stung my eyes.

He didn't seem convinced-and I was admittedly not particularly convincing-but he licked my hand and settled down to lie beside me, lowering his head to rest it on my lap with a faint whine.

I found immediately that I was grateful for Alto's company. I'd forgotten how comforting he had been to me in the past. My tears began to blur my vision, and I sniffed faintly to avoid them.

Marcus directed Antonius and the guard he'd brought with us to go to the smaller cabin meant for servants. When the guard looked about to protest, Marcus gave him one single glance that made him swallow his words, bow, and follow Antonius out into the darkness of the night.

Marcus watched after them a moment more, then turned a serious look to me. "How can I help you, Tasha?"

I stiffened under his gaze, turning my own to the fire, silent.

"Don't treat me like father." He added, the tone of his voice momentarily stern until he caught himself, and dropped it into pleading as he approached me, standing at my feet. "You tried to commit suicide-and nearly succeeded-until father found you at the edge of the lake with a dining knife in your stomach. What were you thinking?"

My anger and anguish warred together, building until I burst, spilling my tears down my cheeks. "I was thinking I can't live like this anymore." I deflated, my shoulders falling, glaring at the stones framing the fireplace.

"He wants me to marry the prince of Erisend. That horrid, despicable man. But I can't-I won't do it." I raised my eyes reluctantly to meet Marcus's, and he went down carefully to one knee before me. "That's why I tried to take my own life. I only jumped in the lake afterwards because Maride found me in the garden and ran to tell father." I shook my head. "I won't marry that man. I'll kill myself first."

"No! Please-don't." Marcus swiftly replied. He studied my face plaintively. "If I could find a way out for you-would you take it?" He begged.

The hope in my eyes at his words seemed to decide for him.

He set his jaw firmly, then went on. "Leave it to me. I'll find a way for you. Just-" His expression wrinkled with pain, and he took my hand into both of his. "-Just-don't hurt yourself. Promise me, you won't try again. Promise me, you will wait for me to find a way out for you." His eyes pierced mine as the full force of his pain shown through.

New tears fell from my eyes for my brother, and I solemnly nodded. "I promise."

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A/N: Regarding moonlight: Does anyone else feel like that? There's a longing you get, and you hate to step back out of its light. I can't figure it out. If you know, let me know. Thanks for reading! Marcus really is the best brother.


	33. Chapter 33

A/N: I got three chapters done once I quit Facebook. Three chapters, guys. THREE. CHAPTERS. Yeah, should have ditched Facebook ages ago, apparently.

Disclaimer: Don't own Labyrinth, but I would love to have a job writing for movies. That'd be nice.

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A Writer Required

Chapter Thirty-three

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I awoke in the corner of the balcony where I'd fallen asleep the night before; but it was not a natural awakening.

It was Maride's alarmed cry at the sight of my empty bed-a sound which brought Canis running-that stirred me awake and pushed me up into a sitting position in confusion.

Canis's hand was on the hilt of his half drawn sword as he pushed past my ladies maid, demanding to know what was wrong. But upon his search of the room, he scowled in annoyance in seeing me perfectly fine, and promptly sheathed his sword.

"Women!" He growled with a glare at Maride, and marched from the room.

I looked after him with a furrowed brow, while Maride hurried over to me and began fussing about me catching my death.

She unnecessarily helped me to my feet, dusting invisible dirt off of me as though I'd slept outside in the grass.

"I'm fine, Maride. The moonlight was comforting and I didn't want to be away from it." I replied sleepily, failing to catch her stunned glance at me, or my own blunt remark. "I had a dream, though. It was strange."

"Well, dreams are often strange." Maride spoke, her words terse. The two ladies maids, I discovered were named Sofia and Aurora, arrived shortly after and started my bath. I was bathed and dressed and Maride managed half of my hair up into a bun, leaving the rest down in curls before braiding it around the bun as well.

"Will you be having breakfast with his majesty?" She asked, and when I looked at her, she nodded and sent Aurora for my own breakfast. I ate it quickly when she returned with it, my thoughts on the dream I'd had last night.

Had it really been a dream? It felt more like a memory-which was beyond odd. But then I remembered the faint, inch long scar on my stomach I had noticed the first time I had bathed. I had not known what it was from before; but now I felt sure it was the same place I had felt pain in my dream-memory.

I had stabbed myself in an attempt to die, rather than face marriage with the apparently foul prince of Erisend. It all seemed surreal, though. As though it couldn't possibly have been me all those years ago.

Maride broke me from my thoughts after I'd finished eating to take the tray and excuse herself until later. I turned back to the vanity mirror. I didn't wish to offend her, but the gown she chose was practically a ballgown, and the hairstyle matched it in its excess.

I was not going the whole day like this.

I carefully undid my hair, and asked the wardrobe for another dress. It came up with a simple but elegant gown of chiffon in a blue hue that matched my blue eye, and was decorated with pale blue scrolling accents and lace of the same color. I left my hair down, brushing it out and letting the magic of the brush aid in reforming my natural curls.

I made my way to the sitting room, thinking of asking Canis if I might go to the library. The palace had to have one, I was sure. I couldn't stay in my chambers for much longer, and reading was a good mental escape when I could not make a physical one. I might also be able to have a look around at the palace, or find something useful in the books in the library.

But upon entering the sitting room, I stopped short.

The king was lounging on one of the couches, waiting for me, his guards and Canis present. Severino raised an eyebrow at me as I gaped at him.

"You seem surprised, Tasha." He remarked.

I steadied myself, fighting down a scowl. Why was he here? "I didn't hear you knock." My tone turned sharp at the end.

Severino stood, tugging on the hem of his tunic to smooth away imaginary wrinkles. "That's because I didn't."

He ignored it when I bristled in anger, and he spoke on. "It's time for your daily ride. I came to see if you were ready," He appraised my appearance with contempt. "but I can see you are not." His contempt darkened. "Did Maride not attend to you?"

"She did." I began quickly, sensing he might grow cross with her if I didn't set him straight. "But I changed myself afterwards. I'm not used to...the style here." I finished lamely. I did not mention the fact that she had failed to give me an outfit suitable for riding. Apparently, she hadn't known either. Perhaps Severino was just looking for someone to be angry with. Regardless, I wasn't about to let him frighten or harm her.

The darkness of his countenance lightened slightly, and he hummed with returning contempt. "I see."

I returned to the previous topic. "I wasn't aware I had a daily ride. I had hoped to visit the library today."

"Another time." He waved away my hope and gestured at my bed chambers. "Go change." When I didn't move, he scowled in warning. "Or, I could magick the clothes onto you, if you prefer."

"No!" I protested, then added in a hurry. "I'll go change."

I strode stoically to my bedroom, and picked a simple riding habit from the wardrobe. Pale blue pants and a sapphire jacket, a cream blouse, and black knee high, heeled boots. I requested a short ribbon from the wardrobe to tie my hair back in a low ponytail. I asked it to save the outfit I had briefly worn in the wardrobe, that I might wear it again later. Once I had changed and returned to the sitting room, the king rejected the outfit.

"Something else." But he didn't let me choose.

Instead he marched unabashedly into my bed chambers, directing the guards to stay where they were, and he picked an outfit for me from the wardrobe.

It was a high necked gold riding dress, with tiny sapphires and emeralds sewn in a simple pattern throughout. Knee high bronze colored heeled boots accompanied it. The outfit as a whole was elegant, but absurdly over the top. I did not deem it sensible for a daily ride. The king, however, did not care for my opinion.

He stepped out that I might change, then returned once I was dressed, and used magic to style my hair. It went back, twirling itself into a loose mass of curls in a bun, and several jeweled sapphire and emerald pins sparkled into place. A cluster of the same two precious gems made up the earrings. I realized by this time that Maride had actually known about this "daily ride". She did what she was told; it hadn't been a mistake.

Another gesture of magic applied makeup to my face. He used mostly a gold color to make my eyes stand out in contrast.

He then placed a hat, the same color as the dress, on my head, and pinned it in place at an angle with a peacock feathered hat pin. Yet more nonsensical additions. Only half of my face would be shaded from the sun.

"Is all of this really necessary?" I questioned, growing annoyed and suspicious, but more than anything, I was worried. Why was he dolling me up? "If I'm horseback riding, it seems like I should be wearing something more comfortable with freer movement." I lifted my arms at my sides for emphasis, making it clear I could not raise them above my shoulders, and I waited for his response as I lowered them back down.

He replied while pulling bronze hued riding gloves from the wardrobe. "This is how you will be going. I'll have no more word against the matter, am I understood?" His eyes were sharp, drilling into my own through the mirror.

I returned the look initially with surprise, then glared, adding defiance to the expression despite my reply. "Yes."

"Good."

We took the same carriage I'd arrived in, the window shades drawn. Severino had brought a book to read, which was all he did the entire trip.

Anything I said or asked was met with a half-acknowledging silence. So, he heard me, but he didn't care to reply.

When I turned my attention to his unshaded window, hoping for some mild diversion, he sent me a sharp look and lowered the shade.

I pressed my lips thin together, and sat back in my seat, clasping my hands together.

We arrived some time after, and the light through the shades turned to darkness in an instant. The faint echo of the carriage and the smell of manure told me we'd entered a stable. When we got out, the man who appeared to be in charge greeted us and bowed and introduced himself as Antonio. The stable hands and staff echoed his bow, and he led Severino and myself to the far end of the building.

A horse stood ready at the doors, the saddle and bridle the same colors as my attire. My stomach turned when I saw it.

Severino had planned everything.

I suspected there was more going on than a simple ride-particularly when he picked this outfit, for it was something meant more for appearance's sake than practicality-but my suspicions were now confirmed. He was putting me on display.

But who was it for?

Antonio instructed me on how to mount and where to put my legs for riding side saddle. Once I was settled, Severino warned me. "Mind yourself." The words were harmless enough, but the tone was heavy laden with very real threat.

I refused to acknowledge him by replying, and instead merely glared at him.

Severino took it as acceptance, and disappeared out a side door of the stable, where stairs could be seen. The main doors were then opened, and I winced at the glaring sunlight. The stable let out onto an expanse of neatly trimmed grass.

Any hopes I might have had of an escape attempt this way, however, were dashed.

The stable was connected to an arena.

The arena was oval shaped, and had walls nearly twelve feet tall, with the only other opening being doors on the far wall, identical to the ones before me. On the other side of the wall were seats like you'd find in a stadium. At either end and across from me were pavillion-like structures with fabric over the openings. All but the pavillion to my left had the curtains pulled open, showing they were not in use.

I couldn't see inside the closed pavillion, but there must have been someone there. Severino was walking to it, and he entered without hesitation. Above him over the front, a flag fluttered, catching the light. It was the same flag I'd seen on that massive ship. Black, with a solid single white line down the center. My stomach sank.

Whoever they were, they weren't here to help.

Antonio explained, gesturing toward the arena. "You'll be going around the arena three times. Samson, here, is trained to take the path, so let him have his head. He'll return here once he's done his part, and I'll lead you both inside. They may have you ride a while longer. In which case, I will remain inside. Samson will continue when he doesn't see me. Just a few times around the arena. That's all they want."

I made a face. "I'm sure." Thinking a moment, I looked down at Antonio. "Would it be alright if I had Samson go faster than just a walk?"

The surprise on his face told me it wasn't a common practice. "For what you're doing, it's best to remain at a walk."

My forehead wrinkled. "Is he not able to run?" I wondered if Samson was meant to be mainly a show horse-making him not used to speed.

Shaking his head in the negative, he explained. "Samson can handle a run fine. I'm more concerned about you." He nodded at the saddle. "With this saddle, you're likely to fall and break your neck if you attempt it. So," A faint smile turned up one corner of his lips. "try not to go too fast, your highness."

I quirked one eyebrow up, and mischief sparkled on the smile I sent him. "Of course."

Stealing a breath, I urged Samson forward. It'd been years since I'd ridden a horse in the Above. I remembered the basics; but it had been so long. I was glad at least the horse knew what he was doing.

The massive steed turned toward the pavillion, and started off at a walk. I glanced up at the structure when I felt eyes on me, but the curtains were still closed.

I bit my tongue lightly.

It was more than a little disconcerting. I looked ahead to my path and passed the pavillion. I'd just ignore them, then.

We circled the arena three times, and when Antonio did not emerge, Samson continued on. It was growing hot outside.

Seeing that I wasn't getting down any time soon, I urged Samson into a canter.

I felt the silence in the pavillion shift from simply observing, to being slightly charged with tension.

I wanted to smirk. I doubted Severino was pleased.

Just as that tension began to ease, I felt an odd sensation dancing through my mind, almost like remembering forgotten knowledge.

Knowledge on how to ride.

Memories flooded in, and suddenly, I knew a great deal more to do with riding than I had previously.

I came round a turn as I finished processing those memories, and once focused on the path beyond, I leaned forward and with a shout, pushed Samson into a full gallop.

The tension surged, almost a mix of alarm and fury.

This time I did smile, though it was more of a grin. My eyes flit up at the pavillion with triumph. I could feel the anger building, and after a moment I grudgingly slowed.

I didn't mind pissing Severino off, but I really didn't want him angry enough to revoke what little freedom and privacy I had left.

Once some of the anger had faded, I led Samson toward a spot on the grass at the end of the arena, nearest the pavillion. I let him slow, then pulled the reins gently back so he stopped.

I stared hard at the curtains, then pointedly lowered the reins fully and folded my hands on the saddle horn.

I was done.

The silence turned stony, but a moment later Severino emerged, eyes fixed on me. He was mad, though not so mad as to worry me. He began making his way toward the stable.

Whoever was with him remained out of sight inside the pavillion, but I got the sense they were undeterred. Instead, they exuded confidence.

I felt a chill slide down my spine.

It was not a good kind of confidence. And… I narrowed my eyes. It felt...oddly familiar. I put the thought to the side to think on later, and I raised an eyebrow, trying to appear unaffected by what I'd sensed. To further express that, I offered a faint sneer of disgust, and lifted my head in challenge.

Amusement was the stranger's silently sensed reply, along with an emotion that felt not unlike lust.

A powerful wariness dropped like a great shadow over me.

The sound of the stable doors opening caught my ear, and I glared one last time at the curtains. Lifting the reins, I turned Samson and my gaze away.

Antonio called to me, and I urged Samson back to him, though the horse needed no urging once he heard and saw his caretaker.

I felt the stranger's eyes on me until I moved out of sight past the doors, where I was able to let myself breath properly.

Antonio had a faint sparkle in his eyes, though when he spoke, his tone was as one of reprimand. "That was very dangerous, princess."

I smiled a little and winked subtly at him, my shoulders relaxing.

"Yes, it was very dangerous." Severino's hard voice agreed, and reached across the stable in an echo.

My smile vanished, and my eyes sought him out. I tensed as he approached. Out of instinct to put distance between us, I pulled my feet free of the side saddle and slid down from Samson, landing on my feet.

Antonio made a frantic sound of alarm at my sudden dismount, going as far as to steady me once I'd landed. I was alright, but I appreciated his kindness.

Severino came round the front of Samson, and the horse raised his head as though flinching away from the king.

I could relate.

Severino's eyes were narrowed, his face slightly pale in his anger. "We're leaving."

I quirked an eyebrow and the opposite side of my mouth curved up in a cheeky half grin. "Oh, so soon? As you say, then." His eyes darkened, but he didn't speak further to me.

Instead he turned to Antonio. "That will be all for today. We will return tomorrow."

I stared. We'd be coming back?!

Antonio bowed, as though his words were unsurprising. "Yes, my Lord." He stepped between us to retrieve Samson, and sent me a look as if conveying that I should be careful.

I replied with a weak, appreciative flicker of a smile, before Severino could see it.

Caretaker and horse left us, and the king and I stared hard at each other.

"That was a foolish thing to do," He began.

"Maybe it was." I retorted coldly. "But you don't care about my safety beyond selling me to the highest bidder. I take whatever you say with a grain of salt."

I wasn't fooled by his scheme, and I sure as the sun wasn't happy about it. "As you're ready to leave," Having said that, I strode past him toward the carriage with my head held higher than I felt it really ought to have been.

Severino snatched my arm as I came abreast of him, jerking me to a halt and pulling me closer so only I could hear.

"Yes. And I will ensure your safety by any means necessary. Be grateful when He decides for certain that he wants you, foolishness and all. There is a long line of others behind him with less patience and a shorter temper, and I can guarantee they will not be as kind." He released me again, and I felt cold at his words.

Others.

Other suitors.

I realized the truth of what he'd said. Of course there would be others. He'd have suitors lined up at the figurative door leading to my hand in marriage.

That is, if he wasn't crazy, and I really were a princess.

"I understand." I returned automatically, not realizing I was saying it until the words were out of my mouth.

He released me and hissed. "Good. Now get in the carriage."

I raised a derisive eyebrow, silently pointing out to him that that was where I had intended to go in the first place.

Severino gestured with restrained anger at the carriage, and I went to it.

I couldn't help wondering if this was going to be a regular thing. Severino had mentioned to Antonio that we would be returning. In which case, I might just have to get inventive in sabotaging these little 'shows'. Or possibly avoiding them altogether.

The carriage ride back to the castle was spent in stony silence provided by Severino, who was still upset by my rebellious behavior.

I could feel his eyes on my face intermittently through the carriage ride, but I kept my own gaze fixed on the covered window, wishing I had something more interesting to distract myself. But it also allowed me to think on my options.

There weren't a lot to my knowledge. Not at the moment, anyway.

I licked my lips thoughtfully. He'd told Antonio we would be back. I assumed he meant for horseback riding again. Aside from that, I couldn't think what he would have me be doing in that strange arena. If he expected me to parade myself around that place again, he had another thing coming.

I found myself thinking of Jareth in the last part of the journey. I thought of him, wondering how he was. If he was safe, if he was happy.

My heart ached, and I bit my lower lip when my eyes began to sting.

I felt Severino's eyes on me abruptly, and I tensed, turning my head further away from him. The stony silence altered slightly, turning almost murky.

It was strange, like he was masking his emotions.

Severino slipped a marker into the book he was reading and set it aside. Clasping his hands, he addressed me. "You're distressed."

I couldn't stop the scoff that immediately burst with derision from my lips. "Oh? I'm allowed to have emotion?" I swallowed hard when my voice wavered, and internally I cursed myself.

I couldn't show weakness. Not to him. He couldn't think he'd broken me. I wasn't broken.

'Although…' A thought occurred to me. 'would he let his guard down-even give me more freedom-if he thought I had given up?' I stared at the window shade while he processed his own thoughts.

'It can't be so soon, though. He'd suspect something was up.' I considered.

I'd have to endure more of his absurd displays before then. He had to believe I'd given up. I had to make him believe I'd given up. That he had won.

Quietly I took a deep breath and released it, steadying myself.

The king was speaking again. "Of course. However…"

I glanced at him as he paused, his expression hardening minutely once he had my attention.

"...Might I suggest that emotions that encourage behavior like today, be minimized as much as possible. Your future husband will not appreciate, nor react in your favor, to such displays."

My stomach dropped a bit at his words. They'd held the certainty of a promise. He knew this suitor would react badly.

The carriage rolled to a stop, bringing my thoughts to an end with it. I glanced at my covered window and swallowed down my growing anxiety. "You said we'd be returning to the stables tomorrow? Another ride around the track?" I queried.

Severino's eyes flit to mine, a cunning look briefly entering them before it was masked, and he smiled. The expression made my stomach sink. "Yes." He then dipped his head to the side a little. "And no." He tapped the door, and a footman immediately opened it.

"Yes to the stables, no to the ride? What exactly will I be doing, if not riding?" I questioned haltingly, taking his hand as he offered it after he got out of the carriage to help me climb down.

I'd almost ignored his hand, but remembering the absurd outfit I was currently wearing, I worried I might fall and hurt myself if I went without assistance, and I took his hand grudgingly.

"You will see." He stated simply.

In no way was I reassured.

Dinner that night was spent in stolid silence. At first I barely ate, despite the mouthwatering aroma.

Severino watched me knowingly, knowing I was hungry. In the end I forced myself to eat. I couldn't escape if hunger pains prevailed.

I ate, and plotted.

Canis and two other guards returned me to my room once the meal was over, and I quickly prepared for bed, wondering if I would dream of another memory tonight.

I stayed in my bed this time, sore from riding, and quickly fell asleep.

"I'm perfectly capable of getting an apple for myself, Canis." I told my guard. He was one of father's best hunters-men hired to do his dirty work, really-but now he was guarding me. He took on the task as some men might.

With reluctance, and no small amount of long suffering.

He replied. "I'm aware of that, your highness. But it's ridiculous to make the trip when a maid can fetch an apple for you."

This was true; but I had another reason for going to the kitchen. Marcus had left instructions for me in my wardrobe. Instructions for me to escape.

My brother and I had stayed two nights at the cabin, but we knew we would need to return soon.

"I will arrange a way for you, but until I do, you must make father believe you have given up." I agreed, and we spoke for a time on the matter.

Upon returning home, I acted the part as Marcus instructed, and father seemed satisfied with my countenance. He invited both of us to dinner, and studied me while we ate. I played the broken princess, and after a time, he allowed me to venture in the palace halls-given I had one of his hunters with me, of course.

Marcus left as soon as we had finished dinner, bidding father farewell and bestowing a brief kiss on my cheek, and then he was gone.

Father was beginning preparations for my wedding, and I grew increasingly anxious for word from my brother.

It came a mere handful of days before the announcements and invitations were to be sent out. He visited me in the garden, clueing to where he had placed his instructions, then sent me back to my room to find them and prepare. With my hunter guards nearby, it was wiser to keep such things out of their sight, as they reported directly to father.

Once I returned to my chambers and was alone, I memorized the instructions and disposed of the note in the fireplace and got ready. All that remained was to see the plan through.

I returned to the present as we arrived at the kitchen, and waved a hand at the kitchen entry. "Well, we're already here." We entered the busy room, and I meandered briefly before making my way to the open double doors leading to a small courtyard connected to the palace kitchens. Wagons and carts came in and out of here all the time, constantly delivering goods.

"Here, an apple." Canis grumbled, reaching into the nearby pantry to grab one off the shelf and shoving it into my hands.

I smiled and thanked him, then turned my attention to two of the men who were moving a large sack of flour together into the kitchen.

In seeing this, I frowned at my guard. "Canis, you should help them."

"I'll pass." Canis replied tersely.

I cast my eyebrows northward in apology. "I didn't mean to offend you. There's no shame in not being strong enough." I shrugged.

The look on Canis's face was almost comical.

His cheeks reddened and he glared hard at me. Marching toward the pile of flour sacks, he crouched down and hoisted one up onto his shoulder.

I was honestly impressed, and at the same time I paled, grimly realizing how easily he could hoist me over his shoulder if he felt so inclined.

Canis smirked smugly at me, then entered the kitchen to put away the bag.

With his back turned, I told him, "I'm going to the library, Canis." but before he could put the bag down to follow me, I slipped carefully into the pantry behind him and hid behind the door. In case he found me, I pretended to be searching for something else to eat.

I heard his grunt of alarm, followed by exasperation and a quiet curse. "Wait!" He growled and hurried out of the kitchen, snapping at the staff to move.

Peeking into the kitchen and seeing he was gone, I grabbed another apple from the pantry before casually moving into the kitchen proper and making my way to the courtyard. The kitchen staff were all too busy to give me much notice.

Once in the courtyard, I handed the second apple in my hand to the driver of the wagon. "Thank you for your work, we appreciate your kindness." I emphasized the word 'kindness', and his eyes brightened with understanding.

"I'm most happy to help." He replied in the same manner, putting emphasis on 'help'. He glanced past me, hesitated, then spoke. "I must pay the head cook now." He cautioned, and strode to the kitchen doors, giving me my cue.

I ducked down beside the wagon, out of sight of the kitchen staff, and moving with alacrity, pulled my dress over my head, leaving a riding top tucked into trousers behind. Bunching the dress up, I shoved it into my top along with the apple and moved the dress a bit to give myself a belly. Quick as I could, I secured my hair up into a bun using a ribbon.

"Thank you kindly." The driver was saying, and my heart jumped.

I was taking too long! Slipping under the wagon, I caught his eye as he rounded the corner of it. He turned back smoothly and started a brief conversation with the cook.

I moved faster. Two belts were about my waist, and I undid the first and wrapped it around the central support of the wagon, and slipped it beneath me, between the small of my back and bottom. Lifting myself up with my arms, I did the same with the second belt, instead placing it at my shoulders. Wrapping my arms and legs around the beam, I quietly tapped it.

The driver wrapped up his conversation, then climbed aboard, and we were away.

The elation I felt was indescribable, but I had little trouble staying focused. One false move, and I would be back in the palace. Before I knew it, we were out of the city and into the countryside. The driver stopped at a grouping of trees along the lakeside, and I heard footsteps approaching.

Whomever it was clicked there tongue once, and I relaxed, replying with two clicks and rapidly unbuckling myself from the wagon.

"Much appreciated." The ring of coins in a bag flying in the air, and the abrupt end made me think the driver had caught them. The footsteps continued to the edge of the wagon, and my brother's face came into view as he bent down. "Did you have any trouble?"

"A little," I admitted, "I took too long, but I think we got away alright." I climbed out from under the wagon, then looked to the driver, who was currently looking through his newly acquired gold.

He slipped the bag in the compartment under his seat and nodded at Marcus. "All went as you planned, my lord."

"Good." Marcus replied. "Get yourself out of the country." The driver needed no further urging, and pushed his horse onward up the road at a leisurely pace. Anything faster would draw suspicion-for what cause had a man selling flour to rush? Marcus was already leading me towards the trees, beyond which a man stood beside a rowboat.

"Your horse is already aboard-don't ask how I did it, there isn't time-" He added hastily. "-the saddlebags are full of provisions for both of you. Use them sparingly." He gave me a firm look, knowing I had the tendency to give more to the horse than myself.

My cheeks grew hot, and my lips twisted slightly into a grimace before I hugged him, and Marcus hugged me back. "Why not come with me? Father will not be happy with you if he finds out you helped me escape."

Marcurrelious grinned lightly, but it looked a little forced. "Who, me? Get caught? Highly unlikely. Besides, who's to say he will find out? He is a very busy man, after all."

Tears gathered in my eyes, and to negate them, I pulled him close into another hug, holding him tight. "I love you, Marcus." His nickname never failed to bring a smile to his face. This time was no exception, even with the addition of his tears.

"I love you too, Tasha. Travel well. Live well." He murmured, kissing my brow as though willing his words into a blessing.

I nodded and wiped away my tears. "I will."

Marcus smiled down at me as we released each other, and he retrieved a small rolled piece of leather from his cloak. He unrolled the roll briefly to show me two charcoal pencils inside, then rolled it up once more. "Take this as well. Should you ever need to create some additional help on your journey." Here he cast me a sharp look. "But use it sparingly. Magic can be recognized and tracked if there is enough to follow." He inclined his head at the boat. "Once you reach the continent, continue south over the mountain range and beyond it to a desert. There you will find help, but you must wish aloud for sanctuary."

That said, Marcus ushered me into the rowboat and bid me farewell, leaving me utterly bewildered by his remark on wishing.

The ship was quite small, and the owner one of few words. He spoke only in the common tongue when he did speak, which was only to tell me to go below deck where the horse was, until we cleared Everlands waters.

I had no qualms about that.

My horse, Capitaine, was happy to see me as well, and I him.

By the third day of the voyage spent below deck, however, we both wanted nothing more than to be free of the ship.

I came topside long enough to breath in fresh air to avoid getting sick. I noticed every so often, that the wind seemed to change direction.

The captain found this incredibly frustrating, and a dreadful thought occurred to me.

Retrieving the leather roll, I spread it out before me on the deck and wrote upon it, speaking quietly and hoping I was wrong. "The wind filled our ship's sail, carrying it swiftly over the water towards our destination." The ship jerked forward, and I took a firmer grip on the leather and pencil. From then on, every time the wind seemed to mysteriously die down or change direction abruptly, I would write again and speak the spell.

I knew Marcus had said to use it sparingly-but without the aid of the wind, we would be stopped still on the sea. I grew dizzy and nauseous eventually, and I had to force myself to eat in order to avoid becoming ill, trying to regain my strength.

When we were nearing the coast of the continent, the captain spotted three large ships on the northern horizon behind us, from the direction of the Everlands, which he informed me amid a great deal of cursing.

I dared a peek over the ship's side, and my stomach took a sharp turn southward. Three large ships together in formation. It had to be my father's men.

We continued on, and it became apparent that the ships were turning toward us, and gaining speed.

I retrieved the leather and pencil again, this time standing at the side of the ship. I wrote. "A dense fog formed and lifted into the air, hiding this ship from the sight of all others." Admittedly not my best spell, but it was certainly effective. Fog formed and lifted from off the surface of the water and spread, hiding us from sight. I took longer to recover.

We arrived at the coast, early the next morning. The ships that had appeared to be pursuing us did not reappear, and I felt my stomach lighten slightly.

The captain took myself and Capitaine to the shore, pointing south at the towering mountain range. "Follow and stay on the mountain path. It is safest and the most direct." That said, he hurried back to his boat, and shortly set sail again with haste.

I was initially a little ruffled by the curt departure, and while his ship moved clear of the shore, I removed my dress from my riding top and put it in a saddlebag before letting my hair back down.

But when I looked back to the sea, I realized the reason for the captain's hasty retreat.

The fog had all but cleared away, and the ships were heading right for the coast. Quickly making sure Capitaine's gear was properly fastened, I wasted not another moment and threw myself into the saddle, urging the animal up the mountain.

We reached the top a handful of hours before midday, and paused outside two towering cliffs that held a pass between them.

The ships were already considering lowering their anchors just offshore, a few longboats being loaded up.

I wrote upon the leather, one last spell. "A powerful gale tore over the sea from the south, blowing against the ships and pushing them to the north." I felt immediately dizzy but pushed onward with a grimace. "The sea churned," I paused wearily. "tipping the ships."

I had to stop and take a drink from the water flask, and forced a few bites of a strip of dried meat down as I observed the ships.

The second and third ships fought hard, but in the end were overturned, their longboats being overturned with them, the third by the wind and the second by the sea.

The lead ship had yet to anchor, as it had started pursuing the ship I'd been on, and had managed to avoid the same fate as the others, but the distinct feeling of magic permeated the air and stilled the wind and the sea, sending a terrible feeling of cold over me. The ship had begun to come about, a new wind aiding it.

Another magic user was altering the weather as I had. Perhaps even more than one.

More or less recovered, I turned Capitaine and urged him through the mountain pass. We reached the bottom of the mountain and the edge of the desert by the time the sun was high in the sky, at its hottest. But the desert was odd. The very air seemed to fluctuate, and shifted as though it were alive.

I stopped before the edge of the strange land, not daring to enter it. If we were to cross this expanse, I'd want to make sure we had enough food and water to survive the journey. I checked the bags, and my stomach sank upon finding they were next to empty.

The mountains we'd emerged from had been barren, and the land before that was little more than shrubs not edible for the horse, let alone for me. There'd been nothing to eat or drink that we could gather on our way, which was bad, but the desert would be worse. And foraging for food was not an option, with us being pursued.

Besides the lack of food, there wasn't any cover that I could see, and Father's trackers were fast. We would be spotted, and they would run us down with ease.

Despair crept into my heart, and I gazed out over the desert when Marcus's words came back to my mind. I thought of those coming after me, of my father, and of my desire to be free, and I spoke. "I wish for sanctuary."

The strangest sensation, as if someone was listening, filled the air. The small hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I placed my hand on the hilt of the dagger that was kept on the side of the saddle, and I turned to look at the mountain behind us.

A quick survey of the natural monument revealed it to be as empty as when we had first descended it. Slowly I released the dagger, my shoulders easing. I wondered, 'Perhaps if I followed the mountain range-' when my thoughts stopped still as I faced the desert.

But it was gone.

No longer the barren wasteland; instead there lay a lush field of emerald green grass. As far as the eye could see, fruit trees of various kinds, and of different ages, stretched up to the sky above and dropped copious amounts of shade beneath their boughs.

A series of bubbling brooks rushed through the field, and a cool, gentle breeze swept over me and my horse, drawing us further in.

I stopped myself from moving forward in realizing this. I didn't get a bad feeling from it. If anything, the strange orchard gave off a peaceful, truly welcoming feeling like an embrace, and I longed to step into it.

Capitaine's ears turned toward the sound of water with interest, and he shuffled in place eagerly at the familiar sound.

Soothingly I patted his neck and commanded him to remain there. He huffed with frustrated longing but obeyed, and I moved cautiously forward. I wanted to be certain it was safe first before letting him wander freely.

Coming to the edge of the paradise, I crouched down and placed my fingers lightly over the grass. I was surprised when immediately a feeling of happiness radiated up from the grass, as though it wanted nothing more than to grow and be useful and welcoming.

I straightened up a little, keeping my hand low but lifting my eyes to the rest of the space before me. I stretched my mind out toward it, and received the same impression from the trees and other plants. They were here purely to aid others.

My eyebrows lifted high at this, and I retracted my hand, coming to my feet carefully. It seemed safe enough, but I had to be sure.

With care I walked through the immediate area, and as I did so, I felt my body beginning to relax, and my lost strength returned, banishing my travel weariness. As I walked, I kept an eye on my horse so as to not get lost among the trees. All seemed well, and there was not a soul in sight, though at times I felt the eyes of another. Despite the fact I could see no one else there, the feeling persisted. But it didn't feel malicious or dark in any way. It was curious, if anything. In the end I assumed it was some kind of small animal-perhaps a squirrel-frightened up into its tree sanctuary.

I just hoped we wouldn't encounter anything dangerous.

Despite my worry, I began to feel at peace, and even safe, here. My shoulders had fallen from their tensed state, and I was truly relaxed.

I returned to the little clearing near to Capitaine, and stopped at an apple tree that looked to be maybe in its third year, with heavy laden arms that reached toward the ground.

Carefully I extended my hand and grasped a large red apple. I stared in amazement as the tree gave off a faintly happy countenance, and the apple fell without resistance into my hand.

I stared a moment longer at the tree, but in sensing no ill will, I turned my gaze to the fruit in my hand. Hesitantly, I raised the apple to my lips, and took a bite. It was crisp and sweet-easily the best apple I had ever tasted in my life.

I drank the juice dripping from it, then turned to Capitaine.

The poor horse was itching to get closer, his ears flicking with frustration.

Giving him an apologetic smile, I raised the apple in my hand toward him, speaking with gentle warmth. "Come on. It's safe, I think." I told him in our native tongue, and I felt a light sense of surprise from whatever was watching us. If it was a squirrel, it had a remarkable range of emotions.

Never had I seen a horse move with more haste.

He slowed before me and hungrily gobbled up the apple from my hand. I laughed when he licked at my fingers for more. "Easy, now! Don't eat me!" I rubbed Capitaine's head with affection and laughed, speaking gently.

"Silly boy." I laid a brief kiss on the side of his head and moved to his side. I removed the reins and the bit that he might eat more easily, but I was still too wary of my pursuers to remove any more of his gear.

"There. Go eat, and once you've finished, we'll rest briefly, before moving on. Off you go, then." I watched him go directly for the stream, and once he began drinking, I stepped away to a large apple tree to sit beneath it. I got myself an apple from the tree, one that was pink and yellow, and a little smaller than the red one I had shared with Capitaine.

By the time I finished my apple, Capitaine had straightened up and moved toward the trees, nibbling grass along the way, and seeming altogether content.

My eyes were drawn to our surroundings once more, and I wondered who owned this place. It was so full of life! Back home, the gardens had been pruned or trimmed within an inch of their lives-but here, everything seemed almost untouched and flourishing.

The fact it had appeared out of nowhere still made me wary, and I would keep my eyes open while we remained here.

Once I had finished the apple, I went to the stream and washed my hands clean, then cupped some water into my hands and drank deeply. I took the opportunity to wash my face, neck, and arms, the cool water easing away the tension I felt.

After one last drink, I went from tree to tree and gathered a few apples and pears from each, and discovered a small plum-like fruit with iridescent leaves wrapped around it. It tasted like plums and blackberries combined, and was utterly delicious. I collected a fair amount of these as well,

then I returned to where I'd left Capitaine's reins and bit, and carefully placed the fruit on the ground near them. I eased back onto the grass afterwards beside the fruit, putting one arm behind my head as I gazed up into the foliage.

Above me, cherry and apple tree branches intermingled, reaching out to each other. Dappled sunlight made its way through their swaying branches, warming and cooling everything beneath them alternatively. Feeling it and the warm breeze on my skin was peaceful and soothing.

I breathed in and out slowly, feeling almost dreamy, listening to the combined music of the leaves and the wind. I sighed silently, and murmured to myself. "I wonder if we could stay here forever?" I knew we couldn't, really. But the thought was nice.

Capitaine returned to me and lipped my face affectionately, making me laugh. He settled down to rest on the grass, and with a heavy, happy sigh, the full horse flopped over onto his side.

I laughed softly at him in empathy, sitting up with a smile as he laid down. I stroked his head lightly, and when he shut his eyes, I let him be.

As peaceful and safe as this place both felt and appeared to be, I didn't dare let my guard down fully. I still didn't know who this extraordinary place belonged to. They'd likely be extremely powerful-to change a landscape so entirely, they'd have to be.

While thinking on all of this, my gaze fell upon a peach tree a little way off, near the brook. The peaches were so plump with their gold and red skin, that just seeing them made my mouth begin to water.

I climbed to my feet, glancing back at the resting horse, then made my way to the peach tree. I reached up to a large peach and took a careful hold. As with all the other fruit trees, it gave of the fruit willingly.

The scent already filling my nose, I breathed it in and savored it, marveling as the fuzzy skin of the peach tickled my lips. Then, I took a bite. The juice ran down my chin, the flavor so sweet that my eyes shut in contentment. This had to be what the land beyond our world felt like.

My father's finest gardens never had anything this sweet. But then, perhaps it was just the fact that I was free of him, that made it taste that way.

I opened my eyes and looked down at the peach as I swallowed my first bite, then took another. I needed to thank whoever owned this place. They'd saved the lives of both myself, and my horse. Even if they were dangerous, they had saved us, and I was indebted to them. I lifted the peach to take another bite.

"They're quite good, aren't they?" A deep, silky voice gently queried from the other side of the brook.

I dropped the peach in fright, losing it within the tall grass. I brought my gaze up and turned to find the source of the voice. "I'm sorry-" I began, when my eyes fell upon a man.

He was handsome, with wild chestnut hair reaching past his shoulders in wispy locks, an aquiline nose and high cheekbones, and eyes that were brown like fresh garden soil-and they took me in with intent curiosity.

I was captivated.

He was taller than me, I could tell even from across the brook. His skin was pale, and the parts of it touched by the sun dappled shade made it glow. His upturned eyebrows and pointed ears that were just slightly visible among his hair, showed he was fae.

The stranger wore a simple white tunic that was opened at the neck, and midnight blue trousers tucked into his knee high brown boots. Around his neck he wore some kind of pendant, and from where I stood, all I could tell was that it was gold in color.

"Who are you?" I questioned haltingly, my eyes glancing behind me at my horse. He was breathing steadily as though asleep. I would not be able to wake him in a hurry.

I felt my stomach sink and my heart pick up its pace, and I took a step back. I brought my gaze back to the stranger.

He quirked an eyebrow and replied. "My name is Jareth. I'm the lord of these lands; the one who provided for you and your horse."

I felt worse than before, my stomach sinking for a different reason now. "I… I didn't know. I apologize." I spoke sincerely, and quickly added in the same tone. "Thank you for helping us. We've traveled a long way. We would have perished if not for your help." I took in a breath and bent my knees into a deep, humble curtsey, bowing my head. "I am indebted to you."

I sensed only a surprised silence at first, and in sensing it, I recognized it as the same feeling before-the same feeling that made me think we were being watched. Had Jareth been the one watching?

I heard the sweep of grass as he walked, and I tensed as his boots came into view before me. I held my breath as he reached out and gently tilted my chin up, at the same time leading me up until I was standing fully once more, and my cheeks darkened.

"You have yet to tell me your name." Jareth pointed out, releasing my chin carefully. Reaching into the grass, he lifted the peach I had dropped.

I swallowed warily, then blinked as he examined the peach briefly, and extended it out to me. I took it back with care, amazed it seemed undamaged by its fall. But I recalled the tall grass around the tree. It must have been cushioned when it fell. Finally I spoke, though my words were evasive. "I come from the north."

If he were truly the lord of these lands, he would know my father; and until I knew where his allegiances were aligned, I wasn't going to share much more information about myself.

He chuckled, and the sound was warm. A delicate breeze started to dance softly through the trees, ruffling our hair. "I assumed as much. The color of your hair and the design of your clothing are common in the northern continent." That same earlier eyebrow flit up high again. "So I'll ask you once more." He clasped his hands behind his back, and I felt my wariness rising.

I bit my bottom lip. Did I dare? If I told him, I had to know first if he could be trusted; if my father knew him and if they were friendly.

"I'll tell you," I began, my tone wary. "but only if you answer a question first." Taking a deep breath, I exhaled sharply and looked him straight in the eye. "Are you in allegiance with the king of the Everlands?" I watched his expression closely, silently praying that he and my father were not allies.

Jareth's expression hardened, souring. "I am familiar with him." He spoke the acknowledgement grudgingly, and his brown eyes sharpened on me. "Why?"

I shook my head side to side. "Answer first, please." I requested, brief panic entering my tone.

His eyebrows raised again before lowering back into place. "I am not in allegiance with the old goat of the north."

My brow furrowed. "Old...goat of the north?" I questioned, bewildered.

A faint smile tugged at one corner of his lips. "That is what many of us call him. He is old, clever and hardy, but also troublesome and unpredictable. And of course, from the north. Hence, the old goat of the north."

The sudden vision of my father as a goat entered my mind, and a snort of laughter burst from my lips.

I let go of the peach with one of my hands to cover my mouth, but it did me little good as the image of my father as a goat, bleating indignantly on a mountainside, stuck firmly in my mind.

Finally I could not contain my laughter, and I ducked my head and laughed, tears coming to my eyes. "Old...Goat!" I laughed, and I thought I might collapse. The relief I felt in knowing he was not a friend or ally of my father's made my shoulders relax and my stomach ease its sinking trajectory, and the tears gathering in my eyes turned from laughter to relief.

But as soon as the tears began down my face, they came in more earnest as I remembered how I had come to be here, and the laughter faded, trailing relief and ending in full despair. I remembered Jareth standing there too late, and I reined in my tears, turning my head away to wipe my face.

"...Are you alright?" Jareth questioned warily.

I sniffed, wiping at my eyes with my sleeve, and took a steadying breath. "Yes-and no. I apologize. I'm glad you are not allied with him." I took another breath, then faced him.

He'd taken a full step back. He must have thought I'd quite lost my mind!

I laughed lightly, then offered him an apologetic smile and explained myself. "I'd never heard him called that before." I gave another quick curtsey. "My name is Tasha. I ran away from my father; his men are not far behind me." My words turned my stomach in remembrance of this fact, and my heartbeat picked up as I looked to the mountain. I had stayed here too long. Staying would risk bringing trouble to Jareth.

My hand twitched at my side, turning into a fist as I brought my attention back to him. "I'm grateful to you, but I have to go. They'll come soon for me." I turned to Capitaine and called his name, urging him in our language to wake. He did not stir, and my stomach twisted.

But before I could take more than two steps away, Jareth gently took my hand, stopping me. I froze, looking back and meeting his gaze.

Jareth stepped a little closer, his eyes softening even as his voice held a steadying reassurance. "You are safe here. No one can harm you." He assured me, and his expression hardened. "I felt the desperation and terror of your wish for sanctuary."

My face blossomed with color in mortification, but he went on.

"I couldn't ignore it. Now tell me, who are you truly, that a father would go to such lengths to retrieve you?"

I felt I was unable to speak at first, and I bit my tongue a moment before facing him fully. "I am Princess Tasha of the Everlands. King Severino is my father. He wishes me to marry the Prince of Erisend." My tone turned firm. "But I refused to marry him. He's a monster."

Jareth's eyebrows lowered heavily above his eyes. "I am familiar with the prince, and I agree with your assessment. He is a foul being."

I nodded. "Which is why I had to get away. Not just from him, but from my father. My brother smuggled me out of the country." I finished just as a strong wind above us touched the trees.

The wind brushed over us, and Jareth's pendant faintly glowed.

Magic was resonating-this entire, strange oasis was resonating-and it felt almost as if it were folding in on itself. I could sense it pulling inward, condensing into a smaller space.

The space around us began to shrink, and I stepped closer to Jareth quickly upon seeing it.

"What's happening?" I questioned. "Why is the oasis shrinking?"

His eyes held a flicker of surprise as he looked at me, but then he turned his head and lifted his gaze to the mountains. "It senses someone approaching."

I followed Jareth's gaze. I could just hear the faint sound of hooves thundering down the mountain side, a cloud of dust kicking up behind them, and I stared in dismay.

They had caught up with me.

"They found me." My heart thumped painfully in my chest.

Jareth gave me a look that began to steady my heart's rapid pace. "Not hardly." His resolute tone gradually settled my panicked nerves.

Abruptly the wind in the trees grew stronger.

Despite the land shrinking around us, Jareth turned and gestured for me to walk with him. We walked side by side, the trees moving just enough that we might pass.

We stopped behind a still sleeping Capitaine, and I wondered at how he could yet be sleeping, until I discovered the ground where he lay did not appear to be moving. He remained undisturbed.

Jareth ducked his head near mine to speak quietly. "Be still and don't move beyond your slumbering mount. I will send them away." Waving his fingers subtly at his side, the dozens of trees between us and the riders shifted and slid and settled in such a way as to create a dense barrier that blocked them from sight. "I will return for you once they have gone."

I could sense the land settling, seeming to belong in a much smaller space, but still remaining fairly comfortable.

The trees swayed in such a way as to appear natural, moving intermittent with each other in the wind to keep me hidden. The cleverness of the act impressed me, and I wondered again who he was.

I nodded at Jareth to show I understood and would obey.

He slipped away among the trees then, following the path of the brook as the land fully settled.

I watched him, and moved myself to stand behind a tree beside Capitaine, where I could peek around it. A series of branches from different trees gently swayed in my way, and I received a firm impression from the land, that I was to stay still.

But I was too worried to not watch what was going to happen.

I murmured to the trees. "Is there not a way that I can see what is happening, without them seeing me?"

The wind tumbled, as though thoughtful. Then, it reluctantly acquiesced and a small opening-just enough for me to see Jareth and most of the horses-was made for me. "Thank you." I murmured, and the wind gently hummed as though pleased.

Jareth was stopping at the edge of the grass, and he waited for them.

"Ho! You, there, traveler!" Called the nearest horseman. He slowed his horse, and the others followed his example, but only enough that they could ride behind and circle my rescuer.

My brow furrowed. Traveler? He looked as if he had been taking a walk in a garden, not traveling! But even as I thought this, I noticed something off about him.

Everywhere the horses moved to step on this magical oasis, became desert, until their feet lifted away to step elsewhere. Between two of the horses as they circled, I caught a glimpse of Jareth. I stared, shocked.

He was dressed in robes and a cloak covered in dust from traveling. With a pack on his back, and a walking stick in his hand. I caught a glimpse of his face as he glanced back at the horseman passing behind him, and his face was the same, though suddenly aged. Had he altered the land only for us? Was it not visible or touchable to the others? If so, was this some form of illusion? If that was the case, then this was powerful magic.

"We are searching for a fugitive." The lead horseman began, and for a moment outrage and disbelieving anger filled me. But it passed when I realized they couldn't very well say, 'Our princess ran away and we've been tasked with tracking her down and taking her back to the king against her will.' and expect an honest answer.

Such news would be valuable to a bounty hunter or those with thoughts of ransom, and news would spread through those with loose lips. These men would not want competition, or to have to ride back to give the ransom demands to their king. Severino would just kill them, and send actual warriors to retrieve me.

There'd be no ransom. All my captors would receive, was a swift death on the edge of a sword, and I would be returned. I felt numb at the thought.

The rider in charge was talking again, and I listened intently. "We tracked her over the mountain. She would have passed by here. She has pale blonde hair and blue-green eyes. Have you seen her?"

Jareth hummed, as though thoughtful. Finally he croaked. "Yes."

My heart jumped into my throat in horror until he went on.

"She continued past me toward the far mountains." He turned and pointed a crooked finger in my direction.

I was no longer concerned by the possibility of him betraying me, because he was telling the truth, without revealing my exact location. He was sending them away, as he said he would. He was keeping his word, without lying.

The lead horseman spoke. "Many thanks."

My stomach jumped nastily as they turned their horses to go in my direction, when Jareth spoke up hurriedly. "Ah! Just a moment!" He pointed with a long sweep behind him with his walking stick, encompassing the hidden oasis. "This path is riddled with sinkholes. You had best go around that diseased tree there, and continue toward the mountains that way." He pointed out a dead tree I could just see the trunk of, outside of the oasis.

The air around the horsemen grew apprehensive, but the leader turned his horse toward the tree. "Again, you have our thanks."

Jareth hummed and waved a hand. "Of course, of course."

Spurring their horses forward, the riders began past the oasis.

I went down on one knee to stay out of sight, though I realized belatedly that it was likely unnecessary. Soon the horseman were nothing more but a dust cloud in the distance.

I heard Jareth approach before I saw him, and he raised an amused eyebrow at my hiding place. "Hide and seek?" He inquired with a smile, his eyes sparkling.

I couldn't help but to smile hesitantly back. "You had me worried for a moment." I admitted, my shoulders sinking with relief.

He chuckled, and offering me his hand, helped me to stand. "Understandable, considering your circumstances."

The trees around us eased back into their natural positions, the wind sighing as though it had enjoyed a nice stretch. They drew my attention for an instant, before I remembered Jareth's feat of magic, and I looked on him with awe.

"That was incredible." I told him. "How did you do that?"

"Misdirection and illusion." He said, waving his hand, and it seemed to be wrapped in the very magic he was speaking of, like threads of transparent silk weaving through and around his fingers and hand. The image faded as he spoke, and my eyes met his. "This oasis is truly here, though to their eyes, it appears as a wasteland of sinkholes and dead trees. They'd think it to be foolish to proceed. That, and they must be allowed in."

I was still absorbing this information when Jareth spoke again, nodding at me. "What do you plan to do now?"

"My brother Marcurrelious told me I should come here to the desert-but beyond coming here, I did not have a plan." I shook my head.

Jareth chuckled. "I've met your brother." His laughing expression faded to reassurance. "He was right to send you this way. None can enter my realm without my consent."

His words caused my brow to furrow. "But...how did I get in?"

"You made a wish. I heard it within my realm, and sensing how distressed you were, I extended the oasis to you. I did not immediately appear, but merely observed at first." Jareth explained.

"I thought I sensed someone's eyes, but when it was curious," I smiled in amusement at him, turning sheepish. "I thought perhaps it was a squirrel we had disturbed…"

Jareth laughed at that. "Not a squirrel, no, but I was made aware of your presence, and I was indeed curious."

My smiled faded. "I'm not sure where to go now. My father has a long reach." I grimaced.

"Well, then." Jareth smiled, and offered me his arm, which I took. "Perhaps you might stay in my kingdom for a time?"

Relief eased my expression back into a smile. "I would like that very much."

* * *

A/N: I pronounce Maride like 'Mary-day', but you can say it how you like. ;)

Also: Ok, so I have to chuckle, because apparently there is a fruit called moondrops, only they're grapes. I had no idea until after I'd written my own version, and it made me laugh to see them because it was just such a cool coincidence. They don't look the same, of course, but I thought it was cool. *shrug* Carry on!


	34. Chapter 34

A/N: Please read and review! I love to get good old constructive advice!

Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth.

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A Writer Required

Chapter Thirty-Four

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Sunlight streaming in through the glass wall of the terrace woke me, ending my dream-memory. I rubbed at my face as I sat up, thinking about the dream. I hadn't known Jareth in the memory, but it didn't make sense. He was a king-didn't all of the monarchy know each other? Why had I not met him before then? A sickening feeling entered my stomach as one name came to mind.

Severino.

Had he been so paranoid about marrying me off to someone specific, that he had kept me away from other monarchs? He was so controlling and power hungry, that it was not hard to believe he was capable of such a thing.

The sick feeling in my stomach traveled to my heart. I had to get out of here.

A knock on the door startled me, and my day began. Severino arrived in much the same way as he had the day before. Maride and the ladies maids arrived first, going through the usual morning routine of breakfast and bathing. But once I was in my undergarments and wrapped up in my robe, Maride and the maids were dismissed by Severino, who then took over. He didn't let me choose my outfit, but it did have a little more sense than the last one.

It was a surprisingly simple dress-simple for him, in any case-an empire waisted A-line dress in pale pink, almost completely made in chiffon, which made it flutter when I walked. There were no sleeves, save two loops of the same fabric that traveled down my arms, almost to my elbows. To finish the look, I had heeled shoes with ribbons securing them to my calves.

Severino then magicked my hair back into a half braided affair, leaving the rest down in natural ringlets. He dotted my hair sparingly with tiny pale pink blossoms, and styled the little wisps of hair that framed my face so they were curled loosely, enhancing the effect they already naturally performed.

I would have loved the dress, and even the hairstyle, if they had been of my own choosing, and I had been in a place where I was free.

And in the end, the entire ensemble felt ridiculous, upon seeing what I would be doing in the arena.

At the opposite end of the arena, furthest from the pavillion, several targets of varying sizes, distances, and heights were set up. At the end of the arena nearest the pavillion, was a table set with a bow, and a few quivers full of arrows on top of it. My stomach sank a little.

Archery.

I wasn't horrible at archery, but by no means was I an expert. I hoped my memories as Tasha also came with an unearthed skill in the sport. They had with riding.

Severino glared hard at my back, and prompted me to go into the arena with a sharp word. Taking a breath, I walked forward and almost immediately felt the stranger's eyes on me.

I pointedly ignored him, and focused solely on walking. I was definitely no expert in wearing heels.

I stopped before the table, looking at the bow and arrows a moment. It was a recurve bow, finely made and ornate in design-even a little over the top for a weapon meant mostly for war-but the arrows were worse, if possible. White arrows with golden heads and feathers, painted with scrolling designs on the shafts.

I heaved a quiet sigh upon seeing them. These people were completely absurd. Who in their right mind would decorate arrows in such a manner? Oh, right. Severino. Taking another breath, I turned to look over my shoulder at the closed pavilion and exhaled. Was I just supposed to start?

When they failed to show any kind of indication that was the case, I assumed I was just meant to begin. Bringing my attention back to the bow and arrows, I felt oddly a little more confident. Picking up the bow in my left hand, I felt my hand take a firmer grip, and knowledge like a gentle wave, eased itself into my mind.

Without hesitation, I reached down to the table and picked up an arrow. Raising the bow, I notched the arrow on the right side, picked the closest target, drew back the arrow and took aim. I was about to release the arrow, but upon shifting my weight, my heel sank into the grass, making me loose the arrow before I was ready. It shot past the target, a few feet to the right.

Immediately I sensed displeasure from the pavilion.

Setting down the bow, I turned to glare at them, then bent down to have a look at my shoe, lifting the dress slightly to better see it. It was half buried in the grass. Looking up at the pavilion, I raised my eyebrow pointedly. Maybe then, they would realize it wasn't my fault I'd missed. It hadn't been intentional.

The displeasure faded, and I dropped down into a crouch and reaching underneath the dress, untied the ribbons and stepped free of the shoes. The feeling of displeasure and even anger had returned when I removed them, but at this point I could care less. I'd rather not break an ankle. Picking up the shoes, I placed them on the grass at the end of the table.

Retrieving the bow, I gripped it loosely and flicked it into place within my hand so that the bow itself rotated, and the string was once more against my arm, then I picked up another arrow. This time I drew, took aim, and loosed the arrow with more confidence and speed. I watched the arrow sail through the air, and hit its mark. I released the breath I'd been holding and stared at the bullseye, thunderstruck.

But a sense of impatience behind me in the stands pulled my awareness back to them.

My lips thinned as my anger boiled. "Fine, if that's how you want it." I muttered, picking up three arrows at once. Each arrow end was placed between two fingers, still allowing me to use my thumb and index fingers to nock and draw the first arrow on the bow.

Looking to the next target, I measured the distance and loosed the arrow, then lifted the next arrow and chose a different target, drew, and loosed, then to the next target, I drew and loosed the third arrow. I lowered the bow, and observed three more bullseyes.

Silence reigned from the pavilion.

I suppose I had assumed they might react in some way, and when they didn't, I picked up two more arrows. Turning the bow sideways, I placed both of the arrows on the left side of the bow and took aim. I drew, then loosed both arrows as I exhaled and hit two targets at once. Again, bullseyes.

And again, silence.

I had maybe twenty arrows left at this point, when I had an idea. Nocking a single arrow, I held a second at the ready, and glanced over my shoulder at the pavilion. No light penetrated its curtains, making it impossible for me to tell where anyone was, but the flag draped across the top of the pavilion caught my eye.

I faced the targets once more, raised the bow, and took aim. But instead of loosing the arrow, I spun round and let it fly up at the pavilion, then raised the second arrow into place and drew it back.

The first arrow sang through the air, and pierced the flag dead center. The fletching glittered in the sunlight, the sight making me feel a little more hopeful. "Release me!" I called with authority. "Open the stable doors, now!"

The silence became one barbed with a dangerous anger, but it was not cold like the king's. Severino was certainly angry-that, I could sense-but there was another dwarfing his.

My eyes flit back up to the arrow as it seemed to wiggle, and dismay and dread picked at me when the arrow faltered, then fell away from the flag.

At the same time it fell, a wave of magic hit me, brushing over my skin harmlessly, but the bow and arrow in my hands softened and transformed into various colored ribbons, falling limply in my hands. It didn't feel like Severino's magic. Severino only ever exuded cold control, which told me this was not his magic. This magic was like controlled chaos; as tumultuous as a barely restrained storm.

Could it have been my suitor's magic?

My eyes caught sight of the arrow that had been falling, now scattered in the form of a few ribbons that became strewn over the steps before the pavillion.

My stomach twisted at the sight. Was this a vision of what my future would be like? Would all of my efforts to be free, to be heard, or to hold any kind of hope, be dismissed as easily as that arrow? I could hit the mark, sure, but would it make any difference? I was still a captive.

I lowered my hands carefully, keeping a solid hold on the ribbons. I wished my magic didn't need to be written in order to work. If only it would work verbally, needing only speech, or even silently as most fae seemed to be capable of.

I turned away from them, going to the table that held the other arrows. They had transformed into ribbons, as well. I noted it with growing despair, and set the once bow and arrow down on the table. There was no point now.

Disheartened and frustrated, I folded my arms. I tried to remind myself of my plan to trick Severino, but it was beginning to feel like the real thing, and not a trick. I felt I was losing hope; losing my will to continue. My shoulders sank as I stared sightlessly at the table of ribbons.

The same magic from before whirled across the table, collecting red and green ribbons of different shades. They wrapped around each other and twisted in such a way that the silhouette they created was familiar. My suspicions were confirmed, when the ribbons suddenly stopped, and before me stood alone a red rose made of ribbons. I hesitated in taking it, then picked it up.

As soon as I touched it, the ribbons unraveled to reveal a real rose, it's fragrance strong but not overwhelmingly so. I almost dropped it out of surprise, and I felt a little numb in seeing it.

I couldn't help thinking that if it had been from Jareth, he would have chosen a peony. I stared at the rose a moment more, when I heard Severino calling tensely for me from the stable doors. He looked upset, but not as upset as I had expected. Which was unsettling, to say the least. I glanced once more at the rose, then set it down on the table, and made my way over to him, picking up my shoes as I went.

The suitor's mild annoyance at my rejection of his gift was palatable, but I didn't care if he was upset. If he really wanted to give me a gift that I would accept, he could start by setting me free.

Severino spoke almost as soon as I entered the stables. "I'm displeased with you."

I didn't respond, but instead placed the heels on the ground between us. "Would you change these into flats? I might twist an ankle, otherwise." I looked to him, waiting for his reply.

I saw his surprise at my lack of a retort, but he turned pensive, waving his hand above the shoes in perhaps the first obliging act he'd made towards me. The heels transformed into flats, and my stomach turned as I forced out the words. "Thank you." I put them on, ignoring his shocked silence.

Straightening again, I swallowed to push away the hopelessness I was feeling, and clasped my hands before me, my eyes lifting to stare at the stable ceiling.

I reminded myself it was a ruse; that I was trying to trick him, but my emotions felt like unbalanced scales, making it harder for me to convince even myself.

"...Of course." He began, suspicion in his tone.

I pursed my lips and then spoke. "Are we returning to the palace?" My tone was clipped, and it seemed to abate his suspicion.

He offered me his arm, which I took after a moment's hesitation, my stomach sinking.

"We are. We will not be traveling for tomorrow's event." He told me as we began walking, and he seemed to be waiting for something.

"What will I be doing?" I asked at last in consternation, casting him a glance.

Severino handed me up into the carriage, then followed and closed the door behind him. It wasn't until we'd left the stables, that he answered me. "Something simple."

I spent the remainder of the day alone, until it was time for dinner with Severino. Maride dressed me in a green and gold dress, and styled my hair back into a loose plait threaded with a gold ribbon and green gem studded pins.

I was called a few minutes before six, and escorted by Canis and two guards. The double doors to a small dining room were opened by one of two guards at the doors, who bowed to the room, then stood at attention to announce me.

I could sense Severino's vague gesture for me to enter, then the guard moved aside and extended his hand in a sweeping gesture into the room, bowing to me.

Entering the room, I gave it a cursory look. It was a different room from the usual, larger, dining room, and different from the one I had passed by to eat my lunch outside. Windows lined one wall, which normally would have allowed in a great deal of sunlight during the day, but now were dark, affording a view of the sky after the sun had set, leaving a fading glow of red.

I could see the moon, covered now by clouds on the opposite end of the sky.

I turned my eyes back to the room. It was all in greens and golds-a fact I found startling, considering my clothing choice matched. I kept a grimace at bay. I was like the room. Just another thing belonging to Severino. Something to be used. Was this his way of telling me as much?

"Good evening. Sit down, Tasha." He added at the end when I did not immediately pay attention to him.

I looked round at him where he sat, at the head of a surprisingly small table. He was gesturing at the space to his left, were a place setting and seat had been prepared. I hesitated a moment, watching him, then walked over to my seat.

A servant pulled my chair back for me, then pushed it in as I sat. I murmured a thank you to him, catching a look of surprise before he bowed swiftly with a, "You are welcome, your highness." and he carried on to his other duties.

"Would you care for wine or water, your highness?" Asked another servant.

At the same time I said, "Water, please." Severino said, "The princess does not care for wine." and the king and I exchanged a look.

The servant appeared to be trying not to look at either of us as he hesitated, then poured water into my glass. He appeared surprised when I smiled up at him. "Thank you." He bowed slightly, still a little thunderstruck.

It occured to me that Severino must not ever thank his servants. In hindsight, though, I realized that most royalty likely didn't.

I looked down at my plate as the variety of scents caught my attention. I could sense Severino's slightly smug air. Apparently he was pleased I was showing interest in the food.

As soon as the servants retreated from the table when their task was done, I leaned a little toward my plate. Severino's smug attitude turned to expectation, until I leaned back again in my seat.

Cool anger came from him, yet he kept his tone light and questioning. "Are you not hungry, my daughter?"

The 'my daughter' remark made me suck in a breath as I bristled, but I chose not to respond. Instead, I carefully pushed the plate away from me, and clasped my hands together in my lap.

Severino's anger grew more prominent and invaded his tone. "If you do not eat, I will not tell you what you want to know."

I held back a withering look I wanted to send in his direction, and pulled the plate back into place. Picking up my fork, I began grudgingly to eat.

His anger eased, and the cross glower on his expression faded as I ate.

"Very good." He spoke, making me feel like some puppy in training. He went on before I could contemplate it further. "You had a question for me in the captain's cabin aboard my ship." He prompted.

I swallowed the sip of water I'd taken from the golden goblet before me. "Yes. I wanted to know-"

"-If I had always been this way." He finished for me. "The answer is yes. I am very much like my father before me, and his father before him."

Dread fell over me at his words. Then he likely never knew kindness. Was he raised to by cruel and uncaring?

'That can't be entirely true, surely.' I thought. 'Though…' I recalled the brief glimpses I'd had of my childhood here. He had never had true warmth of caring or love in his eyes, that I recalled. Always a warm smile, but never warm eyes.

"What was mother like? Where did she go?" I found myself asking, belatedly realizing I had used the term 'mother'. I was still trying to wrap my head around the slip, when I noticed Severino had tensed.

He turned his gaze to his plate, cutting up his food with unnecessary force. "She was like you."

My brow furrowed in question. "What happened to her?"

Severino gave me a hard look as he chewed his food and swallowed. "She went back to where she came from." He glanced down at his plate, pushing some food onto his fork. "Her people come from the Farlands. A world beyond our own. It is to our world, what our world is to the Above. A land of fairytales and myths. However, her world is composed mostly of magic."

His eyes turned momentarily distant. "She, herself, was a manifestation of magic. Born, as her tale would have it, from the moon and sea." He waved a hand as though it were an absurd notion. "She came and went between the worlds as she pleased, never staying long. She gave birth to you and your brother Marcurrelious here, and remained for a time." He took another bite of his food, allowing me time to think.

"Then what happened?" I questioned.

Severino drank from his goblet before speaking. "The moon and the sea called her back to her home. I have not seen her since."

I felt a sudden ache in my chest. She had left, just like that? Was she as uncaring as Severino about her children?

'No.' The thought came. That felt wrong, somehow. There was more to this story than he was saying-or perhaps there was more to it than even he knew. He had said the moon and the sea had called her back. Maybe there was something in her world that kept her from leaving.

I dropped my gaze to my plate, feeling the ache grow. Whatever her reason, she was gone now. "Did you love her?" I asked.

The king cut at his food with an unaffected air-as though I had asked about the weather-and his tone when he spoke was no different from it. "We had an understanding."

I stared at him. They had an 'understanding'? What did that even mean? He seemed to sense my gaze, for he raised his eyes and flit them between me and my meal pointedly, clearly refusing to elaborate on the answer. He chose rather to point out that I was supposed to be eating.

I took a few bites of my meal to appease him, then I pressed on with my questions. "What was her name?"

"Cerina. A daughter of the moon." Severino cast me a searching look over the rim of his glass. "Maride tells me you slept on your terrace."

My face burned a little. "Uh...Yes." I replied.

He dropped his gaze to his drink. "Your mother had a longing for moonlight as well. She found it a comfort at times. It is natural you would feel the same." He took a sip of his wine, then replaced the goblet on the table, his eyes on his meal.

I studied him, feeling suddenly suspicious and angry. He knew about this odd connection? Why hadn't he told me about it sooner? "You knew of this?"

"Yes. It was the same way before your brief time Above, as well. The moon gives you comfort, because it has a powerful connection to the otherworld. You are part of their world, and it calls to you," He focused on his meal. "but it is not possible for you to travel there."

"Why not?" I questioned.

"Because you're future husband is of this world." He stated matter-of-factly. "And you will remain here with him."

His words struck like a blow to the gut. The prince of Erisend came sharply to mind, and my heart jumped nastily. I barely stopped myself from pressing a hand to it. "The prince of Erisend." I murmured.

Severino studied my expression before nodding. "Yes."

"He's the suitor. He's here for these 'displays'." I spoke the word with disgust.

Severino actually raised an eyebrow at me, as though I were slow. "Clearly they are not for my benefit. He wants to be certain of your health before taking you in marriage."

I felt like I'd been struck again. My face drained of color, and my hand loosened around my fork abruptly, making it clatter on the table. "What?" My tone fell, fear and fury wrestling within it. I suddenly couldn't breathe.

Severino scoffed as though the displays were a completely natural thing to do; like they were something common. "He's an intelligent man. He wants a capable wife, one that can bear him an heir."

My eyes widened at him, and I realized my early impression of him on the beach had been spot on. There was no true kindness or affection in him. He was a horse trader-and I was the prized mare, bred for one purpose. To be sold-to make a profit. What was he profiting from in this exchange?

There had never been an ounce of goodness in his heart. He was a businessman; one that was cold and calculated and without feeling other than anger when things failed to go as he planned. "You've never really loved anyone, have you?" I at last questioned, then breathed. "You're incapable of it."

The king continued eating, failing at first to respond. "Love is not required in marriage, or in raising a child." He finally said, and I gaped at him in disbelief.

"It is if you want your family to be healthy!" I countered.

Severino gave me an appraising stare. A horse trader's stare. "I see nothing wrong with your health. For a Fae woman your age, you are in perfect condition."

My jaw dropped, and I shut and clenched it in frustration. "I wasn't talking about physical health, Severino." I spat the name like a vile thing. "I was talking about mental health, and emotional health." I leaned back in my chair, my anger growing. "It's no wonder everyone close to you left."

"Enough!" Severino growled, slamming his fist on the table. His blow was accompanied by a surge of magic that rattled the entire table and everything on it, and made me jump in fright. "Be silent!"

Severino's countenance had darkened dreadfully, but I returned the look with a furious scowl of my own. The king's expression darkened further as he hissed. "I will not continue this discussion." His eyes flew past me towards the doors as he snapped. "Canis!"

Footsteps to my left drew my attention to the hunter. "Return my daughter to her chambers and stand guard." Severino gestured toward me, and Canis approached.

I stood quickly from my chair and backed away, and Canis stopped before raising an eyebrow and waving a hand grandly toward the dining room doors behind him. "After you, my lady." The slightest hint of sarcasm lined his words, and I bristled. I looked to Severino, hoping he might change his mind.

He had already returned to his meal.

My anger mounted. "Princess Tasha." Canis's voice held an edge to it, and I pressed my lips thin together, glaring at the king.

I began walking, and I spoke to Severino with words that I fully meant to speak. "Maiale assoluto!"

Apparently being called an 'absolute pig' was not an uncommon occurrence for him, because Severino failed to react beyond taking another bite of his dinner.

Canis, however, did not seem to appreciate it. He expressed his displeasure by stepping forward and taking me roughly by the arm. He pushed me before him towards the exit. Severino must have previously approved such treatment, for he did not rebuke the hunter.

We passed through the dining room doors and into a wide hallway. "Get off of me!" I hissed. I tried to pull my arm free from his grasp, but his face turned cruel and he held tighter, increasing the speed of his stride. I stumbled unintentionally and he yanked me upright, ignoring my pained gasp.

We passed by an intersecting corridor, nearly running into a handful of maid servants busy about their business. They stopped immediately, curtsying hurriedly and murmuring greetings as we passed.

Beyond them, I glimpsed another corridor that had the far wall half open to a garden courtyard. A powerful feeling hit me, and I snapped loudly at Canis, "LET GO OF ME!" before he swore vehemently and pushed me onward. I glimpsed movement at that far corridor, but I couldn't discern if someone was there, or if it was something in the garden swaying with the faint wind.

"Do not make me throw you over my shoulder." He warned with a glare.

Canis marched me directly to my chambers and left me there in the sitting room, shutting the doors behind him. It was dark inside, the setting sun stealing most of what light had danced into the room earlier. Magic stirred the stone wall sconces and fireplace to life, brightening the room and giving warmth to an otherwise cold prison.

I was frustrated and tired. This was all a complete mess! I just couldn't keep myself from snapping back at Severino long enough for us to have a full conversation. I hated to think it, but we really were similar. I pressed my tongue to the backs of my upper teeth thoughtfully. He'd answered my questions, at least.

But it only left me with more questions.

I paced the length of the sitting room, thinking on what I'd learned. Eventually I wandered into my bedchambers and decided a bath before bed might help calm me.

Maride arrived to help me change for the night, and upon hearing my request, helped me that I might have a bath.

Maride filled the bath, adding the scented salts and soap of strawberry and jasmine to the water. The fragrance alone helped calm me, and the bath even more so. Maride washed my hair and executed the usual routine. I emerged a little while later when an odd feeling prompted me. I gave no outward appearance to anything being out of the ordinary, but I felt it.

Once I was dried off, Maride applied powder and perfume, then helped me into a nightgown and brushed my hair dry with the magicked comb. I dismissed her afterwards, and still felt perplexed by the mysterious feeling. I opened the tiny six inch window to let the steam out of the bathing chamber, as Maride had forgotten it, then returned to the counter to clean my teeth.

I heard a faint, "PSST! Amelia!" from the window, and looked round in fright. It was Baard-just outside the tiny window!

Immediately I hurried over. "Baard!" I hissed, relief flooding through me. He was holding himself over the window like a mountain climber, his head and chest visible as he braced himself against the palace wall. "How did you find me?"

Baard offered a faint smile, his eyes flitting to the scented steam streaming past him. "Strawberries, of course. Though I heard you in the corridor first." He admitted, and his smile fell when he next spoke. "The king saw your portal, but could not reach you. He sent me here to ascertain your situation." He looked me over briefly. "Are you well?"

Jareth had seen my portal! I had feared it had been a waste, but he'd seen it and figured out where I was! My relief faded with Baard's question. I made a face. "As well as can be expected." I cleared the expression away to determination. "But your arrival gives me hope." I looked to him in question, my brow furrowing. "When I saw you at the docks, you acted like you recognized me."

Baard tipped his head deferentially at me. "I have not forgotten you, my queen."

I stared, and my heart suddenly ached terribly, and my mind tried to process his words. I could feel memories trying to come to the surface, to no avail, and it made my head ache. "Queen?" I murmured.

Queen Tasha. The name sounded in my mind, and I felt suddenly dazed. It...felt right. It felt right, in the way 'Princess Tasha' had felt wrong. My headache grew worse, and I shut my eyes a moment to clear my mind. I would process this information in detail later-right now I had to focus.

I opened my eyes as Baard nodded and went on. "The king has informed me that you, Lady Amelia, are his wife and queen, Lady Tasha. Severino took you and disguised you." His eyes flashed with anger at the loathsome deed before he restrained it with a grim scowl.

"In any case, my queen, I have come at the word of your husband." My heart jumped at 'husband', and Baard adjusted his grip so one hand was pressed to the side of the window. "You wished me to deliver your note?"

Pulled from my thoughts, my eyes lit up and I nodded. "Just a moment." Hurrying from the room, I made sure the sitting room was empty before returning to my room and shutting the doors. I didn't want anyone walking in on our exchange.

I retrieved the note and hesitated. Would the map be useful to Jareth? I didn't know that I'd be able to do much with it, but if it was an accurate and current map, he might be able to use it.

This decided, I took both from the wardrobe and shut the bathing chamber door behind me. Baard was still at the window, keeping a lookout outside. I went to him and held the letter and map up, speaking quickly in remembering how I'd written them. It would be frightening to discover they were written in blood. "Tell Jareth I didn't have anything else to write with. One is the note, the other a trade map I copied a portion of. I had thought to use it-but I don't think I'll have enough freedom to manage it."

Baard's eyebrows raised, and he glanced at the folded notes as he received them. He nodded. "I will tell him." The elf then slipped my message and map into a hidden fold of his jacket.

"Be safe." I told him worriedly.

The elf tipped his head respectfully, his lips grimly set. "You as well, my queen." Baard suddenly looked to the window frame, then to the door, his eyes unfocusing briefly before looking urgently back at me. "The guards are coming." Then as silently as he had appeared, Baard let go of the wall, and descended into darkness without a sound.

I just stopped a gasp of concern and the reaction to try to look out the window, when the door received a hard rap. I clapped my hands over my mouth to stop a yelp. Taking in a steady breath, I lowered my hands to speak. "Who is it?" I dropped my hands to my nightgown, unnecessarily checking it.

"Your guards." Canis's muffled voice stated.

I glanced down at myself, and certain I was as decent as I could be at the moment, I finger combed part of my hair over my shoulders anyway, before opening the door. I planted myself just before the opening and raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

Never had I seen men blush so quickly. Canis recovered faster than the other two guards, and inclined his head past the door. "We have to check the room."

"Why?" I asked.

"There's a spell on the window." One of the guards supplied the answer to my question. "It alerted us when something passed through it..." Canis shot him a subtle glare, as though that was information I didn't really need to know.

Seeing it, I blinked at them, putting on a sheepish expression over the wary one I felt. "Then I guess you came for nothing. Maride forgot to open the window to let the steam out after my bath, so I opened it." As an afterthought, I added. "A moth flew in a moment ago, but I was able to help it back out."

"We have to check." The second guard echoed Canis.

Pursing my lips, I grudgingly opened the door. "Very well." I stepped out of the room so they could check it. Once they entered, I leaned against the doorframe and folded my arms silently, watching as the three men scoured the room together, and then peered out the window each in turn.

Canis stayed longest at the little window, but it was far too dark for him to see anything-I hoped-and he was the one to close it at the end of their search.

They found nothing, of course, and when they were filing out of the bathing chamber, Canis eyed me with mild suspicion, then thinly smirked. "I suppose all that's left to search, is you."

My stomach twisted and my face lost its color. I bristled in indignation and folded my arms casually over my chest before raising an eyebrow at him. "Only if you want broken fingers." Came my deadly reply. "Because I can promise you this: that is what you'll receive if you attempt any such thing." The two guards gaped in shock at the threat, but Canis scowled, and I went on. "I would like to go to bed." The two guard's faces reddenned at that while I continued. "I suggest you all leave. Now." I emphasized the last word with authority.

Canis sneered, but he raised a hand, signaling to the other guards to leave, himself in tow. Once they left my chambers and I was sure they were gone, I sagged against the double doors of my bed chambers with relief. That had been too close.

But now I had more cause for hope. Hope that soon I would be free of this place. Hope, and a revelation from Baard that left me with a headache. I went to bed trying to process it, but the headache grew in intensity, and I had to stop. Feeling a whirlwind of emotions that I could do nothing with, I eventually drifted off.

Jareth stretched and got up from the pile of furs we occupied on the floor near the fire. He walked, entirely naked, to a small table covered with platters of food and drink, affording me an excellent view of his backside.

I smiled and rolled over onto my stomach, stretching myself as I watched my husband unabashedly. He poured himself a glass of honeydew wine, a favorite of the Underground, and among the Fae especially. It sparkled like peridot and was absolutely delicious, tasting like a spring sun feels on the skin. Fresh and crisp, and especially delicious when added to the activities of the previous night.

Jareth began collecting various berries like strawberries and raspberries and put them into a small bowl. He was getting a drink from his goblet when the bed chamber doors opened, and in walked Baard.

I felt my face become hot when he saw me lying there on the furs on the floor. I was on my stomach, so he couldn't see anything-except my entire, bare, back. His eyes widened, and Jareth's voice turned his attention from me.

"Ah, Baard. What have you to report?" He asked it so casually, that for a moment I forgot about our current situation as he took a sip from his goblet.

I remembered as Jareth filled a goblet for me, and picked up the bowl of fruit and walked over to where I lay.

He sat on the furs so that his back was resting against my side, and he was putting himself between me and Baard. It was something simple to do, but I was grateful to him. It was comforting having the simple contact with him and a measure of modesty. At the same time, the simple touch of his skin on mine began very quickly to set a fire in me, and I found myself again longing for his touch.

He must have sensed this, for he cast me a hot look and a smirk before he set the bowl of berries and my drink down in front me. He leaned toward me and murmured meaningfully under his breath, "Save me some strawberries." and the steamy temperature of his gaze told me he didn't just want to eat them.

My cheeks warmed, and I smiled back as I slipped a raspberry onto my finger, tapping it lightly against my bottom lip. "I shall endeavor to."

Jareth gave me such a look, I felt the fire growing rapidly. His eyes said clearly he would like nothing more than to ravish me right that very moment.

Baard noticed the tension, too, and clearing his throat, he tried to get out attention. We focused once more on him, only to see that he'd kindly turned his back to us to face the wall. "I apologize for interrupting your-er-first morning as husband and wife, but the dragon king is on his way here. He should arrive within the hour."

Jareth sent me a glance over his shoulder, thoughtful, then turned back to Baard. "I will be ready. Thank you, Baard."

Baard nodded, then marched sideways from the room. I just stopped an empathetic giggle as he did.

Once the doors were shut, Jareth smiled down at me, turning and placing a hand on the ground beside my waist and leaning over me as I turned over onto my back. "I believe we have some time before our guest arrives, my lovely queen."

"I believe we do, my king." I agreed, and when Jareth moved to kiss me, I pressed the raspberry to his lips. He blinked, surprised, and the expression was so comical, it made me giggle.

My Goblin King raised an eyebrow and smirked behind the fruit, before opening his mouth and devouring the berry. He then leaned down and kissed me properly. Once we parted, his earthy brown eyes sparkled as they met mine, and his hand caressed a strand of hair out of my face. "I love you, my dearest Tasha."

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A/N: This is post honeymoon, in case there was any confusion. ;) There was originally a bit more steam in this, but I toned it down. Let me know what you think! Please read and review! :D And a thank you to readers:

Thevoiceslockedaway (Your feedback has been immensely helpful, thank you so much! I appreciate it! ^_^)

GoddessofTricks (Your reviews made me smile and helped me finish this chapter! Thank you!)

renandkishan (And no worries, I totally had that capitulo ready. ;) I'm also learning Italian, which is how the language came into the story, and it actually works beautifully. Also btw the doc manager thought you were a url, so it erased your name, so I apologize for not putting the '. nmr' with it!)

For their kind reviews! You guys made me smile and helped keep me writing!

To everyone, thank you for reading! It means so much to me! ^_^


	35. Chapter 35

A/N: Been gone a while, thanks for your patience in waiting for this! Chapter Thirty-Five! Let me know what you think. :D

Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth.

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A Writer Required

Chapter Thirty-Five

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The morning after Amelia's disappearance was quiet, and tense. Sarah and Marcus were each given their own guest chambers for the night previous, once evening came and we had discussed a great many plans to recover Amelia.

I sent both Marcus and Sarah to their beds when the hour grew late, as we would need rest for the morrow. Sarah decided instead to return Above for the night, and to sort a few things out the next morning before she would return. I agreed this was a wise course of action, and she departed.

Despite knowing how important it was to get some rest, I remained awake the majority of the night, unable to sleep. My mind turned in concern over what ordeals Severino might be putting Amelia through.

It was during breakfast that things were pushed into motion by Amelia herself. Mid meal, Marcus and I both went still at the slight touch of magic-Amelia's magic-resonating in the courtyard.

We went there in haste, my own heart pounding and soaring with hope. But before we reached the doors, I heard her as she screamed my name; the sound of terror twisting my heart, and all thought save the thought to go to her, ceased.

We entered the courtyard, but there was no sight of Amelia. Her portal stood at the base of the stairs, but all that could be seen beyond it was a wood floor and faint morning light shining upon it.

Hurrying forward, Marcus and I both stopped short as a figure stepped before the portal on the other side. It was Severino. He was not looking through the portal, and therefore did not see us, and we continued swiftly forward that we might stop him.

But Severino was quick, and his expression terrible in his anger. He swept his hand before the portal, and it vanished, managing to pull the remnants of Amelia's magic with him, leaving none behind.

My mind moved swiftly, and I turned toward the castle. "Baard! I need you!" It was sharply spoken, and Baard seemed to have sensed something was amiss when he arrived not seconds later.

"My lord?" He didn't bother wasting time by bowing. My tone meant haste, and formalities were thieves to precious time.

I spoke quietly to him, and Marcus came to stand beside me. I didn't spare him a glance. "I need you to go right now to the Everlands." I took a breath, using it to think and condense my words. "There isn't time for a full explanation now. Just listen and obey."

"Sire." Baard's expression cleared to all but the ready vigilance of a soldier, and his back straightened.

In seeing this, I went on. "Lady Amelia is Lady Tasha. Severino disguised her. She attempted to create a portal here, but we could not reach it in time. Go to the Everlands, find out what you can about the situation there. Go first to the docks. It's possible she is on one of Severino's ships. Find out as much as you can from your sources. If you can safely retrieve her, do so. If not, find out what you can about getting into the Everlands by whatever means possible. Then report back to me. Understood?"

"Yes, my lord." Baard nodded curtly, though questions and restrained shock danced in his eyes a moment before they faded into determination, the knowledge that I would explain things at a later time momentarily seeming to console him. "I will do all I can." That said, he promptly vanished.

Marcus and I returned to our meals to finish them with haste, then went to my study. "Severino likely knows now she remembers a portion of her magic. But because of that, he will be especially careful in keeping anything she can write with, out of reach." I frowned grimly. "He will be more cautious, and we must be ever the more careful and clever for it."

A few days passed before Baard returned. His arrival lifted a weight from my shoulders. I had begun to fear he had been captured-or worse. "What have you learned?" I questioned.

Baard did not waste time on pleasantries once he, Marcus, and myself retreated to my study. "Her Majesty was well when I left her. She seemed afraid, but more than that, there is fury in her. She is determined, and she told me she has hope now." That eased my heart a little. She had hope, which meant she would still fight. Severino had not broken her.

Baard continued. "Severino has her, as you suspected. I saw her when she disembarked a ship with him, but I heard from a reliable source, that he was retrieving her after she'd attempted to escape." Baard's eyes were sharp as he recalled the conversation. "My source says she scaled the palace's garden wall and swam across the lake, but the king intercepted her on the shore."

Marcus paled slightly at this information, and seemed to be lost to his thoughts. "The garden wall…" He murmured, and he looked suddenly quite ill. "As she had tried before. Severino would have remembered."

I raised an eyebrow at my brother-in-law. "Tried before?" Marcus swallowed, folding his arms in discomfort.

I glared at him, and in feeling it, Marcus reluctantly relented.

"Before she met you, she attempted to commit suicide, and to avoid our father, she climbed over the garden wall to jump into the lake to die." His face paled further the more he spoke, and my stomach sickened at the same pace. Baard's expression showed he was just as horrified in hearing this, and he looked slowly between myself and Marcus as though he couldn't quite comprehend it.

"...I had not heard of that." The elf said, and the two of us looked to Marcus for an answer. He gave it a moment later, his pallor not much improved.

"It was kept quiet by our father. She confided in me once she began to heal, saying she would rather die than marry the prince of Erisend-our father had been planning on giving her to him in marriage. I told her I would find a way out for her, but I asked that she first promise me not to try again to harm herself. She agreed, and I planned her escape." He explained. He looked to Baard. "What else did you find out while there?"

Baard hesitated only a moment, glancing at me for approval, which I gave with a nod, and he then spoke on. "When we saw each other at the docks, and she showed she had a note, indicating it was for you." He nodded at me, then continued. "I communicated to her that I would come to the palace. However," His expression fell swiftly to anger. "Severino saw me and directly afterwards put into effect a new law. He has decreed that anyone of Labyrinthian descent, is to leave the Everlands or lose all they own and be imprisoned or killed."

A shocked silence fell between us, and at length I scowled down at my clasped hands. "Cutting off all ties to me." I grimaced in fury, my eyes darkening. "The old goat is getting cleverer and crueler." My brow lowered as I raised my eyes to Baard. "And those forced to leave?"

Baard explained. "A great many lives have been uprooted. Entire families forced out because of their heritage. Most are on their way here for refuge." The elf's expression hardened. "I only escaped capture by relying on an old sea captain I'd befriended years ago. He let me stow away on his ship, posing as his nephew, between gathering what information I could. But the new law has limited or halted what movement we have left. I couldn't find a secure method to initiate a successful extraction of the queen. Severino has her too well guarded, as well as increased security within and without the palace."

"I see." I was silent a moment, contemplating his words, then continued on. "You said Amelia gave you something?"

Baard nodded haltingly at the reminder and came forward, offering up two slightly crumpled pieces of folded parchment from his pocket. He expressed his sincere apology at their condition, then added. "She wished me to tell you that there was nothing else for her to write with."

I took both, but found I could not open them fully. Something dark and red had acted as a thin sort of wax-but with a shock, I discovered it was not wax at all.

It was blood.

I felt the color draining from my face. Had she been forced to resort to such a thing? It was certainly possible, as Severino would have kept any writing materials from her. There would likely have been no other alternative.

I found I could hardly breath, and I had to focus briefly on regulating it. Utilizing my letter opener, I carefully peeled apart the parchment, and examined the letter with a sinking stomach. It was streaked with blood; in such a way as to tell me she had been possibly interrupted or hurried.

Marcurrelious, upon stepping closer and seeing the letter, looked ill, but was growing rapidly furious again.

The letter was in familiar handwriting, and in opening the second folded parchment which turned out to be a map, I observed it was roughly drawn, though the routes and destinations had surer strokes. The names of the ports-copied in the fae language-were written with uncertainty, but easily discernible to someone who knew the land.

Marcus studied the map, his countenance turning relieved and even pleased. "Clever Turnip. She's marked the new routes between us."

Baard nodded and indicated the map with a gesture. "Her Majesty mentioned she did not think she would be able to use the map, but that you might."

I looked it over, feeling a little pride and relief, myself. "She was correct. Severino will not allow her many-if any-freedoms. But we might be able to make use of this." I hoped we would, in any case.

Looking back to the note, I read it aloud.

"Jareth, from Amelia. In Underground. Fae King Severino says I'm his daughter. He says he had spells put on me, but took most away. I look different. Don't know his plans. If you can, please send someone you trust to help me escape. I love you.

Amelia"

My heart ached even as I read it, and I pursed my lips and examined the handwriting. It was a mismatched combination of the style of the woman I had loved and lost, and the woman I had fallen in love with.

Amelia was Tasha, this I now knew thanks to Marcurrelious. I knew they were one and the same. My supposedly deceased wife had been, all this time, under my very nose. It occurred to me then, that perhaps the contract binding us in the past when we were married, had been reenacted when Amelia had put my ring on her finger. The marriage contract was already valid; that was why it had had no trouble in connecting with her. The connection had already been made.

Baard's expression was grim and angry. Horror added to the mix as his eyes snapped up to meet mine. "What of the Little Prince…?"

My lips twisted in an uncertain, dark scowl that Marcus echoed. "I don't know. Severino likely has him, though as to his state, I cannot say."

Baard frowned. "What can I do?"

I stared in silent surprise at him, then considered his words. It meant a great deal to me that he cared. He cared enough to help-and that knowledge filled me with immense gratitude. "Thank you."

He nodded, a small smile flitting over his lips before he turned serious once more and approached the desk. "I am happy to help in any way I can. What do you need of me?"

I shook my head at Baard. "You'll be killed if you return." I stared hard at the letter. "We need to approach this differently."

I lifted my gaze to Baard. "Speak to your contacts outside the borders of the Everlands. Find out everything you can. Spread the word to all those fleeing that they are welcome here. I will send out soldiers along the way to escort them safely. Report back to me, and we will converse further on our strategy."

Baard bowed. "Yes, my lord. Is there anything else?"

I gave him a grim look. "Be careful."

Baard smiled thinly. "Her majesty said the same to me." He bowed deeply. "I go as you command." The words were almost formal. With that said, he promptly vanished.

I sat back down in my seat, offering the chair to my brother. "I have a question for you." Marcus sat, his brow wrinkled.

"Do you know how Severino staged their deaths?"

Marcus was quiet for a time, thinking. At length he finally responded. "Golems."

Staring at him, I leaned further forward in incredulity, pressing the abandoned prince. "Golems?"

He offered a nod, then went on. "Severino placed golems-one fused with a strand of Amelia's hair, and the other a strand of Teren's. The doubles were then left, and the carriage was staged to have been attacked."

I remembered with clarity the burned bodies of my wife and our child. My shocked mind had only registered their deaths. It could not comprehend such a possibility as their deaths being staged-that the whole thing had been some elaborate trick.

Marcus's brow wrinkled grimly. "They weren't harmed then, they won't be now." He shifted in his seat, his face wrinkling in pain at the memories. He spoke through it anyway, quickly. "Father made plans to trick you both. To trick you into believing she was dead, and to trick her by burying her under a mountain of spells." His expression darkened in fury. "Taking away her memories and altering her appearance-it would have taken a great deal of magic." He refocused on my eyes. "That's why she had those headaches and the occasional weakness in her arms and legs. Her subconscious was fighting, and every time something of her past was spoken of, the spells had to fight back in order to keep her from remembering. It took a physical toll on her."

"He won't hurt her," He again assured me, though his expression was twisted with disgust. "No, Severino will likely try to marry her off as quickly as he can." The twisted expression eased just enough to allow dark humor to replace it. "But Amelia will give him Hell."

"And so shall we." It was a promise.

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A/N: I hope you liked this chapter! Please review with your thoughts!


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